


swear i'll never leave again

by Ann1215



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: (I hope), Anal Sex, Comedy, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Kaito is clueless, Love Confessions, M/M, Major Character Injury, Post-Conan Kudou Shinichi, Romance, Shinichi Is Adorable, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-18 03:02:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17573051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ann1215/pseuds/Ann1215
Summary: When Kaito eventually grows tired of his mother's relentless matchmaking tendencies, he ropes Shinichi into tricking everyone they know and love that they're both engaged. To each other. And it's easy enough, because all they have to do is:1. Don't lie to each other.2. Don't tell anyone about their plan.3. Don't fall in love with each other.At least, it was supposed to be easy.





	1. so this is love

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time I read a kaishin doujinshi, which led to me watching Magic Kaito 1412, which led to me cooking up this disaster.
> 
> Title taken from Keshi's song of the same name.

As much as Kaito had loved flying on his hang-glider as Kaitou Kid once upon a time, planes were something he’d probably never get used to. They were a means to an end; they helped him get to all the wonderful new and familiar places his magic tours take him and they were convenient enough, but.

The constant waiting, the perpetually grumpy staff at customs, and the screaming babies on a fucking red-eye from Hungary all the way to Japan make the flights almost not worth it at all. At least his bags haven’t been confiscated this time, he thinks ruefully, as he makes his way out of the baggage hall with a backpack, three other bags and a trolley with a rickety wheel, fiddling with his phone and hoping against hope that _she_ has no idea that he’d changed his flight schedule at the last minute.

Of course, he could have chosen to fly later, with the rest of his crew, but this was the only thing he could think of to dodge—

His phone rings in his hand, startling him and fear runs through him for a fraction of a second until he sees the contact name, and sighs in relief.

“Hello, dear,” he chirps happily, and he doesn’t know how an eye roll can be audible in anyway, but he hears it loud and clear in the caller’s reply.

“I can just leave you stranded at the airport, you know,” Shinichi’s tone is exasperated and fond all at once, and Kaito revels in the fact that only _he_ gets to bring that out in his former rival.

“Ah, but who else would still chase me, Shinichi?” Kaito sighs dramatically, but hastens his steps anyway, and adds, “You know which gate I’m at?”

“Of course,” the other man huffs, and Kaito grins. _Of course, indeed._

A few minutes later, after dodging a particularly slow-moving family and narrowly missing being run over by a trolley that’s being pushed by a little girl clearly aiming to have a career on the race track, he finally escapes the crowd and exits the airport building, unsurprised to see a tall figure waiting near the curb, dressed in a sweater that drowns his slender frame and neat, practical dress pants and shoes. There’s no mistaking the few unruly cowlicks as well, and Kaito’s glad to see that the other man hadn’t even bothered to tame his hair.

God knows how terrible he probably looks, with his last shower over twenty-four hours ago and his hair messier than a bird’s nest.

“Did you miss me, Shinichi?” Kaito greets him cheerfully as soon as he’s close enough, and he’s rewarded with a glare from those familiar blue eyes as well as the beginnings of a smile. Shinichi wordlessly gestures at Kaito’s backpack, and he hands it over to the other man as they make their way to the car Shinichi had borrowed from Ran for the day.

“Yes, it’s going to be easier to sleep now that you’re back and tinkering with your props at all hours of the night,” he replies sarcastically.

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Detective-and-acclaimed-novelist. What time did you get to bed last night?”

At that, Shinichi finally breaks into a laugh, rubbing his nose, eyes crinkling in amusement. “You’re starting to sound like my mother, Kaito. I slept enough.”

“If I recall correctly, I wasn’t the one that bought salt and mistook it for sugar after running myself ragged on three cases back to back,” Kaito reminds him, snickering as he takes in the flush on Shinichi’s cheeks.

“That was once, and I could still leave you here right now,” Shinichi threatens him, as they arrive at Ran’s car.

“Ah, you wouldn’t leave a sleep-deprived man to battle the harsh Tokyo subway system, Shinichi,” Kaito whines exaggeratedly, as they work together to place his luggage in the car, Shinichi humming innocently, tunelessly. He hasn’t heard him humming in too long, so he forgoes teasing him for it.

And it’s probably a joke, but Kaito doesn’t hesitate to clamber into the passenger seat; he doesn’t want to give Shinichi the option of thinking he could actually leave Kaito behind to try and get home via the subway after all.

“You do look more exhausted than you should be,” Shinichi notes, as they begin their drive. “I thought you said you were going to sleep on the flight back.”

At the reminder of his ordeal on the plane, Kaito groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “There were some babies during the flight, and their parents couldn’t get them to stay quiet. Pretty sure I’ve been battling a low-level migraine for the last six hours at this point.”

“Aspirin’s in the glove compartment,” Shinichi informs him, and Kaito can’t help but feel a warmth bubble in him, flashing a pleased grin at the other man as he opens the compartment, grabbing two pills to swallow.

“You’re the best housemate ever. What would I even do without you?”

“Drop dead, probably,” he replies casually, and yeah, Kaito could see the truth in that, especially seven, eight years ago when they were still thief and detective, and yet aside from Jii, bless the old man, Conan, before he became Shinichi again, was probably the only other person he’d trusted almost as much as he trusted himself.

It’s probably why they’ve been living together ever since Shinichi had shown up on the first day of university, whole and his body regained, and had smirked at Kaito before saying, “Glad to see no one was able to catch you while I was gone,” and somehow Kaito had been roped into moving in with the detective, because they were required to dorm as first-years and he had the choice of a random partner, or, well, Kudou Shinichi.

And then second year came around and Shinichi had told him, “My home’s closer, and there’s more room,” and Kaito hadn’t protested, because the other man had waved away his offer of paying rent with a, “We can split the groceries?” And that had been their arrangement, until Kaito started performing overseas more often after graduating, and this is the first time he’d been away for—

“You’re quiet.” Shinichi’s voice breaks into his thoughts, and Kaito glances at him. The last time he’d seen the man was maybe five, six months ago? He’d visited Kaito during the American leg of his tour in Las Vegas, and he’d had fun watching Shinichi attempt to unravel his tricks afterwards.

(He was right about seventy percent of the tricks, which simultaneously filled him with pride that the detective hadn’t been completely successful, and also indignation that he’d uncovered so much. The same could probably be said for Shinichi.)

Kaito smiles, shrugging as he watches the traffic pass by; looks like they’re about forty minutes away from home, if he remembers right. “Just thinking about how long it’s been since I left,” he says. “Performing was—amazing, but feels good to rest one’s wings for a little while.”

“Is that why you took the first flight back after your show?” Shinichi asks, and Kaito has to struggle to not show any visible signs that anything was amiss.

“Yeah, figured I could let the rest deal with the boring paperwork,” he laughs, and he’s not lying, technically, but Shinichi might not agree.

(It’s not his issue to deal with, though.)

Shinichi hums, but he doesn’t push just yet. It’s one of the many things that make Kaito grateful the other man had pretty much coerced him into cohabitating all those years ago. “It’s been close to ten months, hasn’t it?” He says instead, and Kaito lets out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief.

“It took me less time than that to find Pandora in Europe,” he muses, and Shinichi huffs a laugh.

“Oh, are your skills slipping due to old age, Mr. Magician Extraordinaire?”

“About as much as yours, my detective,” he deftly counters, and gets a smack up the head in response, as well as a badly stifled snicker. “Ow! Hands should be kept on the wheel, Shinichi!” He cries out, but the man’s openly laughing at him now and Kaito honestly can’t find it in him to be remotely annoyed because—

He’s missed this. He’s missed having the companionship of his favourite detective, and he’s looking forward to catching up with the man now that he doesn’t have any pressing matters to deal with, barring one that might spring up on him any time now, but. Problems for future Kaito to handle.

Right now, he can’t really be bothered to think of anything except for a long, long bath to wash off the grime from travelling, and—he stares at the glove compartment as the throbbing in the back of his head begins to intensify again—a couple more aspirins.

***

There’s something to be said about showering in one’s own bathroom, Kaito muses in contentment as he finally deigns to get dressed into a t-shirt he can’t remember belonging to him (he doesn’t know how long Shinichi’s probably mixed up their laundry at this point), and a pair of lounge pants, feeling marginally more human. Shinichi had been kind enough to make dinner, which means he’d ordered pizza and stocked the fridge with his favourite beer while Kaito had been showering, presumably.

Sure enough, Shinichi’s at their dining table with two pizza boxes in front of him, and he’s foregone the dress pants in favour of sweatpants this time, his phone in hand and a frown steadily forming on his face as he sighs into his call.

 _Ran, most likely,_ Kaito thinks. That’s an exasperated frown, different to his thinking frown when he gets called to consult on a case. He heads to the fridge, takes out two cans and places one in front of Shinichi before sitting across him and opening his own to take a quick gulp.

“This would be your third attempt in the last two months if I agree,” Shinichi says, fiddling with the drink, clearly agitated. “And I have a feeling you would have forced me to go on more if I hadn’t been busy with deadlines and that month-long case.”

He pauses for a few moments, and then sighs. Kaito takes the opportunity to open up the pizza boxes, pleased to see that Shinichi hadn’t fallen for that accursed salmon on pizza trend—it’s all kinds of a fucked up concoction, even without his own distaste for anything involving fins.

“This is incredibly last minute, Ran,” Shinichi groans, and Kaito mentally gives himself a point for getting the caller’s identity right. “I don’t—no, I don’t mean that, I—right, yes. Yes. Fine, I’ll be there, okay? But this is the last time you’re doing this. _Please_. No, I—right. Okay, talk to you soon.” As soon as he hangs up, Shinichi immediately heaves a loud, long sigh, and looks like he’s contemplating the merits between putting his phone down normally, or throwing it against the nearest wall.

“What did Ran want?” Kaito asks curiously around a mouthful of pizza. He’s seen his fair share of annoyed Shinichi, but perhaps he’s been away too long, because it’s been a while since Shinichi’s looked this defeated in front of him. He didn’t even bother chastising Kaito for talking with his mouth full.

Shinichi runs a hand through his hair, making his cowlicks stand up even more obviously, which, Kaito isn’t ashamed to admit, is an endearing look on him. “She’s setting me up on a blind date tomorrow,” he explains tiredly, and Kaito can’t help but snort at his dramatic antics.

“I’m sure you’ve dealt with much worse, detective,” he says, placating, but Shinichi only shakes his head, and reaches for a slice of pizza, chewing for a bit before he replies.

“It’s just—tiresome, honestly. I understand that she has well-meaning intentions, but…”

“It drives you fucking crazy that she thinks you can’t make your own choices, and that it’s impossible for her to believe you’re perfectly content, the way you are right now?” Kaito says knowingly, thinking of what he’d had to escape in Hungary not very long ago.

“Exactly,” Shinichi agrees vehemently, and takes another bite of his pizza. “Her last two attempts… You remember my mentioning them?”

Kaito narrows his eyes in thought, recalling vague conversations while he was away, during nights when Shinichi’s up too late and mornings when he’s up too early. “There was that soccer player, right? And the, uh, accountant?”

“Yes, and last I heard she’d moved to the sales department,” Shinichi confirms.

“She wouldn’t stop talking about jewelry,” Kaito hums in amusement, remembering the other man’s disgruntlement and his, “I got enough of that from Kid”.

“And the soccer player—”

“—turned out to be the murderer you’d been chasing for the better part of three days.”

Shinichi winces at that, but nods anyway. “In hindsight, that was a pretty fortunate thing.”

“Only you would say that,” Kaito replies, and Shinichi merely shrugs, finishing off the rest of his pizza. “Fine, one was a bore and the other a murder case, but perhaps third time’s the charm, detective. And you did tell her that this was her final chance?”

“I doubt she’d accept that,” Shinichi groans in despair, and opens his beer, before drinking a few gulps. “But hopefully she gives up if this one turns out to be a bust as well.”

Kaito chuckles at him. He doesn’t know if Ran’s purposely being terrible at picking people who Shinichi would even have a remote interest in, or if the woman really has no clue what her childhood friend and former boyfriend’s type is.

(Cold, dead and containing a near-impossible mystery to solve.)

“Let’s drink to that then,” he proposes magnanimously, lifting his beer in the air between them. Years of living with Kaito has probably muddled Shinichi’s brain to a certain extent when it comes to his erratic, chaotic, and borderline dramatic behaviour, because the man doesn’t even protest and lifts up his own can close to Kaito’s. “To a not-so-terrible first date, for the third time.”

“To Ran admitting defeat when this first date inevitably turns into a disaster,” Shinichi says darkly, and they clink their drinks together, and then Kaito asks Shinichi about his last few cases to take his mind off the whole thing, and that’s how they end up talking until three in the morning, tipsy and giggly and contentment snaking around Kaito’s chest.

***

In hindsight, Kaito definitely let his guard down too soon.

But he’d been distracted, busy teasing Shinichi as the other man had been preparing for his date that afternoon, sighing heavily every three minutes and “You’re not making this any easier, Kuroba” before reluctantly leaving the house with, “If I’m home late it’s most likely because I ran into a case—”

“I wouldn’t judge you for letting loose once in a while, detective.”

“Kaito, I swear to god—”

“Oops, look at the time! You wouldn’t want to make a terrible first impression by being late, would you? Good luck, have fun, tell them about the time you had to swim under Rainbow Bridge, that’s a good one!”

That had been a little under an hour ago, and right now he’s staring fearfully at the phone that’s blaring the iconic Batman theme song on a couch in the living room, wondering if it’s not too late to fake his death and start another life in disguise somewhere in far away. He hasn’t been to South America, perhaps it’s time to make a visit.

He could probably drag Shinichi along, too. Crime happens _everywhere_ , much to his lack of a surprise, and the detective already knows half of the higher-ups in the FBI anyway. It’d be easier than having to deal with whatever’s waiting for him on the other end of that phone call.

The phone suddenly falls silent, and Kaito has half a second of hopeful relief, before that stupid theme song starts back up with a vengeance.

He sighs, runs a hand through his hair and works out the kinks in his neck, before walking over to the phone, wincing at the contact name on the screen, and accepts the call.

“Hi, M—”

“ _Kaito_.” He never knew a word could contain so much goddamn exasperation, disappointment and frustration all in one, but he’s mildly impressed that his name fits the bill.

“… Yes, Mum.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out that you’d changed your flight at the last minute?” Not really, if Kaito’s being honest, but he’d been hoping to have more time to come up with a backup plan.

“I just missed home, I guess,” he replies casually, and Chikage sighs on the other end of the line, loud and heavy.

“Kaito, you know I only had the best intentions—”

“And I told _you_ I don’t really need any help in finding anyone, Mum,” Kaito interrupts her exasperatedly, feeling very, very tired suddenly. At that moment, he absently wonders how Shinichi’s date is going, and feels a sort of kinship with the man when it comes to the meddlesome women in their lives.

“I don’t even want to know how you have a plethora of gay or bisexual men that you apparently know in every damn country I’d toured around for the past year who are of marrying age,” he adds, shuddering at the memory of finding a handsome stranger in front of his hotel room during his first stop in Taiwan, and how the pattern had repeated itself until Kaito had to take drastic measures to avoid them, and Chikage by extension.

“You should know to never underestimate me, Kaito. And I’d believe that if you had any proof, but I’ve not seen you date anyone in the last five years,” his mother sniffs, and Kaito narrows his eyes as he racks his brain for something, _anything_ to just keep her off this goddamn disastrous path.

“Just because I don’t parade my partners—”

“That’s only because you don’t have any—”

“—Does not mean I am incapable of having a romantically fulfilling relationship,” he finishes, indignation welling up in him when he only hears her scoffing at him, sniffles abruptly forgotten.

“Don’t tell me you weren’t single the entire time you were away on tour,” she says dismissively and then, an amazingly terrible, potentially disastrous, and definitely _insane_ idea pops into his head, right then and there.

“As a matter of fact, I wasn’t single,” he tells her, his brain yelling at his mouth to shut the fuck up because oh god this was not in the plan, he was just supposed to tell her to back off, but Chikage laughs at him derisively and somehow _that_ ultimately pisses him off enough to continue digging the grave he’s supposed to lay in if this actually, finally dissuades her.

“Kaito, if you’re going to lie to me you’ll have to do a lot better than that, dear.”

“I’m not lying, Mum!” He _is_ , he so is; he hasn’t dated anyone in fucking forever, and he was completely fine with that but it’s like being in a goddamn car crash and he can’t stop slamming on the gas, and continues, “Look, I—the reason I haven’t accepted any of your prospects, as charming and wonderful as I’m sure they are, is because I’ve already been seeing someone for, uh, a while now.”

“Look, this story of yours has gone long enough, and I believe you should start making it up to me by going on a date with a friend’s son tomorrow, hmm? He’s an archaeologist, I’m sure you two’ll find something common to talk about—”

“Mum, I’m actually engaged.”

_Shit._

Silence passes for a moment, long enough for an eternity to stretch.

“Kuroba Kaito, you didn’t lie to me about Kid, so why are you choosing _now_ of all times—”

“I’m sorry, I know I should’ve told you,” Kaito starts, molding his voice into the appropriate mix of guilt and embarrassment and happiness, “I just—it happened while I was on tour, just out of the blue, I hadn’t even prepared a ring for him and I was waiting for the right time to tell everyone, and, you’re the first one to know, now.”

“… Kaito, are you telling the truth?” His mum asks, devoid of any emotion he could decipher.

“Yeah, I—I am, Mum,” he sighs, his mind whirling at the next obvious thing Chikage will say.

“Can I at least see the man who’s captured your heart so?” She says, mischief sneaking back into her voice and there’s no backing out at this point, so he steels himself, and says a quick prayer of forgiveness to whoever he’s about to drag into the depths of hell together with him.

“Sure, I’ll send you a photo, yeah?”

***

About half an hour after the call with his mother, Kaito receives a text from Shinichi.

_Will be home late, on a case_

[4.23pm]

_But you were on a date??_

[4.23pm]

_Made a tactical retreat. I’ll tell you about it later_

[4.25pm]

_Ok, be safe_

[4.26pm]

He spends the next few hours figuring out the logistics of his lie, and he nearly calls up Jii to help but he’d be the first person his mother would go to if she’s looking to expose him, and immediately scraps the idea.

By the time the front door opens and he hears Shinichi trudging in, close to eleven at night, Kaito’s got an entire framework of lies, sipping on his second hot chocolate of the day and feeling pretty pleased with himself, but he just needs—

“Kaito, are you still up?”

“Yeah, in the kitchen.”

A few seconds later, Shinichi appears in the doorway, looking rather haggard with his eyes at half-mast, and walks into the kitchen with sluggish footsteps.

“Coffee?” Kaito offers, already moving to the coffee machine.

“Please,” Shinichi groans, and sits in one of the dining chairs, and when Kaito looks closer he can see the slight mud stains on the detective’s rolled up sleeves as well as his collar, looking decidedly more torn than it had been earlier.

“So I take it you didn’t go to your date?” Kaito asks innocently, as he prepares the rest of Shinichi’s drink, and raises his eyebrows at the other man as he wrinkles his nose in distaste.

“I don’t think Ran had factored in the fact that the woman she’d set me up with had been a… Fan,” he replies delicately, and murmurs “thanks” as he accepts a mug from Kaito, before taking a drink. “I didn’t ask for decaf,” he adds, but continues drinking anyway.

Kaito rolls his eyes. They’d had various versions of this conversation over the years, but it doesn’t stop Shinichi from commenting on it every single time.

“You don’t need help staying up,” he answers dryly, and adds, “So she’s a fan? I thought that might have made the conversations a lot better, since she would be aware of how much gore and death you deal with on a regular basis.”

“Yes, well, it turned out that she was less of a fan of me, and more of a fan of the gore itself,” Shinichi says, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “She, ah. She asked me to describe the most blood-filled crime scene I’d encountered and moaned rather loudly in the middle of my explanation,” he continues, shuddering a little.

Kaito on the other hand nearly chokes on his own drink, but manages to swallow the hot chocolate down anyway as he stares at his housemate. “Oh wow, Ran sure knows how to pick them, huh?”

Shinichi shrugs, but a reluctant laugh escapes him as he shakes his head. “I really hope she’ll stop after this time, but I doubt it. God, I’m so fucking tired of being set up on these horrendous dates,” he sighs, utterly defeated, rubbing at his temples, eyes closed. “And I know my mother’s behind it all as well—I vaguely recognized the woman, from the last time she held some gathering for her and my dad’s friends.”

It’s then that Kaito stares at Shinichi, and it’s as if all the pieces in the puzzle he’d created in the last six hours had finally slotted themselves together.

“Hey, Shinichi?”

“Mmm?”

“What if I told you I could get Ran and your mum off your back about this dating thing?”

Shinichi snorts. “You’re a fantastic magician—don’t let that get to your head—”

“Too late, I’m taking that to my grave and engraving it on my tombstone for the world to see, ‘Detective Kudou Shinichi thinks I’m the best magician the world’s ever seen’—”

“—But I highly doubt you can conjure up a partner that would be able to pass their inspection _and_ handle me for extended periods of time, especially at my worst,” he finishes, completely disregarding Kaito’s interruption.

Kaito steels himself as Shinichi continues to sip his drink, glancing at him disdainfully, and cheerfully announces, “Oh, detective. I don’t need to conjure one up.

“You’re looking at him right now.”

At that, Shinichi stops drinking his decaf, places his mug down and turns his full attention on Kaito.

 “… What did you do, Kaito.”

Kaito gasps in mock affront, but when that doesn’t incite any sort of reaction in Shinichi he quickly drops the act, running a hand through his hair as he recounts the conversation he’d had with his own mother while Shinichi was trying to deal with his extremely kinky date and then the case he’d escaped to afterwards.

“… And in conclusion, this will get every nosy person fathomable out of our lives and we don’t even have to do anything much; I’m an excellent actor and you’re quite formidable yourself, detective. We’ll just have to keep up our fake engagement for long enough to get Ran and our mothers off our backs for the time being,” he finishes, wondering if he’d oversold the entire idea and absently planning what he’d need to pack to escape and live a new life in Mexico.

Shinichi, who’d allowed him to say his piece with no interruptions, slowly nods after a few moments, making Kaito blink at him in disbelief. “It makes sense, I suppose.”

“It does? I mean, yes, of course it does, how could you have ever doubted me, Shinichi?”

The detective doesn’t react much to his words, and Kaito instantly recognizes the look on his face right then—it’s the face he’d made back then, when Kaito would spy on him right before a heist began, deducing all the possible escapes Kid would have planned out, and he feels himself grinning at the thought that they’re really about to carry out this idea, absurd as all hell as it is.

“Oh,” Kaito speaks up, remembering the agreement he’d made with Chikage. “She wanted a photo as well.”

Shinichi raises an eyebrow. “Kaito, I’m quite sure I’m in no state to take a decent photo for you right now.”

But he merely smirks, and replies, “Don’t worry babe, I’ll take the photo with you!” And he quickly walks up to Shinichi, who watches him warily, until Kaito smoothly drops himself in the detective’s lap, causing him to splutter and jump in shock, nearly dislodging Kaito.

“Kaito, what the actual _fuck_ —”

He laughs at Shinichi’s steadily pink cheeks, and they’re not, touchy, per se, but they’re used to each other’s touches after nearly six years of living together and it amazes him how quickly Shinichi calms down with Kaito sitting astride his thighs, an arm around the former’s shoulders for balance, as the detective places a hand on Kaito’s hip to make sure he doesn’t fall flat on his face as well.

“Also, are you okay with ‘babe’? Or would you rather another term of endearment?”

Shinichi shifts a little under him. “I’m terrified to think of the other choices.”

“Dear, honey, darling, light of my moon, hot ass, bae; I’ve always been partial to ‘boo’, myself—”

“ _Babe’_ is sufficient, I think. I don’t mind a couple of the others, but if I hear you referring to my ass one more time, I’m arresting you for sexual harassment.”

Kaito lifts up his phone, thankful that he’d had the foresight to place it in his hand from his back pocket earlier as he was walking towards Shinichi, and starts looking for a good angle to take the photo as he opens the camera app. “Damn, babe, you really know how to get this engine going,” he says nonchalantly.

It’s probably a testament to how exhausted Shinichi is when he only laugh-groans his way through his reply (“Oh my god, shut _up_ , Kaito”) and Kaito quickly takes a couple of photos, smiling as he leans back against the other man.

He brings up the photos, and is pleasantly surprised at how convincing they look. Shinichi’s eyes are squeezed shut, crinkles at the sides and his mouth wide open in mid-laugh; his hair is a little ruffled, but his face is turned up towards Kaito, evidently flushed.

He on the other hand has his arm wrapped around Shinichi’s shoulders, fingers fiddling with the other man’s collar, winking at the camera.

They look very much like two people in love, wholly unaware of anything else around them.

“Oh, those turned out pretty well,” Shinichi comments from beside him. “We probably need to, to corroborate our story so that it matches from both sides,” he adds, his words broken up by a couple of yawns and Kaito decides Chikage should just content herself with their photo and interrogate him another time.

He gets up from Shinichi’s lap, and shakes his head fondly as he grabs both of their mugs to place them in the sink. “That can wait until tomorrow, Shinichi. You look almost as dead as those corpses you tend to, but decidedly more attractive.”

“God, have you been waiting to use this lie so you could aggressively attack me with your incessant flirting?”

“That’s so mean, babe. There’s nobody I’d rather ‘aggressively attack’ with my compliments than you.”

“I swear—”

“ _Good night_ , detective,” Kaito presses, and it makes Shinichi chuckle at last.

He’s not prepared for Shinichi’s reply, and it takes him a split second to react, grinning back at the other man as he walks out of the kitchen, swaying a little in his sleepiness.

“Good night… _Dear_.”

***

The next morning finds them at the kitchen, again.

This time, Shinichi’s properly caffeinated, a couple pieces of toast half eaten in front of him as he frowns at Kaito, who’s munching on cereal straight out of the box.

“So you told your mother you got engaged during your tour and she believed you?”

Kaito shrugs, and washes down a mouthful of cereal with his own coffee, extra sweet, unlike Shinichi’s bitter roast. Unlike Shinichi, who’s sat at the dining table, Kaito’s on the bar counter, long legs swinging aimlessly. “I’ve done stupider things.”

“I’d hoped getting fake engaged to me would top that,” Shinichi smirks, and takes a bite of his toast. “Shall we set the date to around that time I visited you in Vegas?”

“Oh, that’s a good one, plausible enough to be a while back, but recent enough,” Kaito hums in agreement. “And the rings?”

Shinichi waves his half-eaten toast around dismissively. “We can go shopping later; since you’ve already outed yourself to your mother, I have a feeling we only have a limited window of time until everyone around us finds out as well. And if we’re really doing this, we need to set some ground rules.”

Kaito watches the detective, cereal forgotten. “What kind of rules?” He asks, curious to see where this goes.

The other man frowns in thought, and says slowly, “Tell each other everything, for one: nearly all of our friends are either detectives, or they’re too smart for their own good. If we slip up and don’t let the other person know about, well, anything pertaining to this agreement, we could easily be exposed.”

“True,” Kaito readily agrees. “And I think that naturally leads to another one: we’re the only ones who _can_ know about this. That way we don’t have to implicate anyone else, and it’s easier to keep track of everything.”

Shinichi nods, sipping on the last of his coffee. “Alright. Last one, then. If either of us starts developing romantic feelings for the other and it’s not reciprocated, we call it off.”

It startles a laugh out of Kaito, and he can’t help but tease the other man, says in a syrupy sweet tone, “Aww, Shinichi, are you afraid of falling in love with me?”

“I’m more terrified of Inspector Maori than I am of that,” he replies with an innocent smile, and Kaito groans dramatically, clutching his chest.

“Oh, that one actually hurt, babe.”

“Would you like me to kiss it better, dear?”

Kaito, to his credit, doesn’t actually fall flat on his face, but it’s a near miss.

“Shi—what the hell—”

Shinichi has the nerve to roll his eyes at him, as if he was the one being completely unreasonable. “Kaito, we’re going to have to talk like that now, you know?” He says, like Kaito’s dumb, and huh, maybe the man has a point.

(Doesn’t mean he’s an idiot, though.)

“I—right. You’re right of course, darling,” he shoots back, and Shinichi doesn’t look fazed, but there’s some colour to his cheeks that wasn’t there a second ago and he grins triumphantly. “Right. So no falling in love with each other.”

“Essentially, yes,” Shinichi says matter-of-factly, and it’s then that Kaito’s phone beside him on the counter beeps once, and then incessantly, for the next three seconds.

He’s not surprised at the name of the sender, but when he opens the texts his eyebrows steadily raise as he reads them, blinking at the contents incredulously.

“Shinichi, we, uh, we might have run into our first snag.”

He hears Shinichi get up from his seat; a couple of moments later, the man is standing beside him, leaning around to look at the phone as well. Kaito hears him mutter “oh shit”, and vehemently agrees.

“I completely forgot they knew each other,” Shinichi says at last, breathing shallowly, and Kaito looks up from his phone to stare at him. “I—my father knew yours, but it’d been so long and after I returned to my former body, I didn’t—”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine—you’re okay,” Kaito says soothingly, jumping down from the counter and gripping the back of Shinichi’s neck, recognizing the beginnings of an anxiety attack. Shinichi doesn’t get it too often these days, but a mind as vast and as powerful as his in memory meant the terrors from his own past haven’t fully left him yet, and even when he’d regained his body there were things that he’d had trouble with, like remembering parts of his childhood.

It takes Shinichi a couple of moments for his eyes lose that glassy sheen to them, and when he lifts his head to look at Kaito again there’s only the faintest trace of a weak smile.

“Sorry,” he says, like he always, needlessly does.

“You don’t have to apologise,” Kaito replies for the thousandth time, soft and quiet.

It’s only one of the few times that Shinichi ever lets Kaito see him vulnerable, and it’s always a swift experience, but Kaito’s seen this part of him too often to not know how painfully real it is every time.

“I should be expecting a call from my own mother within… The next hour?” And then it’s the Shinichi that most people see, and Kaito merely follows his lead, nodding grimly. “I’ll send her that photo of us from last night, and—right. We got engaged six months ago?”

“Towards the end of summer,” he confirms. “But before that we’ve been dating since…?”

“Two years ago?” Shinichi guesses, tilting his head in thought.

“That’s not too much of a rush?” Kaito asks teasingly. “I’m rather impressed I managed to snag your heart so easily, detective.”

The other man barely reacts at that, and leans back against the counter. “We’ve been living for six years now, Kaito. It looks best if we treat it as a natural progression—”

“So who falls in love first?” Kaito interrupts and Shinichi replies without missing a beat, “It’s more believable if it’s me, because if we go with you everyone would probably just think of it as the joke that it actually is, considering how very few things you take seriously other than magic tricks.”

“Huh.” Kaito stares at him, more than mildly impressed at how much the detective’s placed thought into this fake engagement, taking into account both Kaito’s behaviour and everyone else’s judgement. “I have no objections, then. Shall we iron out the rest?”

After twenty minutes, this is the story they’ve come up with:

The two of them have been dating for two years, prior to the engagement that took place six months ago in Vegas, after Kaito’s show during a late supper in one of the city’s few quiet bars, hidden from the main street. Kaito had popped the question, and had made Shinichi a makeshift ring of a flower stem, because the magician had been so enamoured by his partner that he had to ask him right then and there, even without a proper ring.

Shinichi had fallen in love with Kaito first, slowly over the course of knowing him; he can’t pinpoint when exactly he’d started, but he had realised it when he started uncovering Kaito’s tricks to see the proud expression he’d made, instead of his own need to satisfy his curiosity.

(Kaito won’t lie; the thought had made him smile, even if it’s untrue.)

Kaito on the other hand had liked Shinichi as someone who’d make everything exciting for him, someone who could understand the way his thoughts worked, firing at all corners with no clear direction but somehow still making sense, but he’d fallen for his former rival when the latter had brought him on holiday with him during his rare days off from writing and solving crimes, and all Kaito could think of was how much he’d wanted to stay like that with Shinichi forever.

(They picked the time Shinichi had dragged him to Kyoto and wound up discovering the trail of a kidnapping case.)

They hadn’t told anyone about being boyfriends, because they just never bothered to say anything and thought their detective friends would figure it out eventually.

They got engaged, because they got tired of waiting for everyone to figure it out.

(“Kaito, we can’t use that as a legitimate excuse.” “Right. Because we’re in love and want to make it official, and because all of you were too dumb to realise how in love we were.”)

They’ll be married for two years, at most, during which Kaito’s tours will be even more extensive and Shinichi’s career will keep him busy, and they’ll get amicably divorced because they grew distant.

It’s a solid plan, at the very least, but Kaito doesn’t understand the discomfort he feels at the fact that he’ll have to sign papers that essentially say he’s not cut out for the whole marital thing.

He doesn’t get to dwell on it for long though, as Shinichi’s phone suddenly rings, a video call request popping up on the screen, and he looks at Kaito cautiously.

“I guess now’s as good a time as any to put all we’ve prepared to the test.”

Kaito’s only response is to wink at him, and Shinichi sighs. He directs his attention back to the phone, holds it up in front of him, takes a deep breath, and then schools his features into nonchalance with an ease that rivals Kaito’s own skills when he accepts the video call. “Hi, Mum.”

“Kudou Shinichi, what’s this I hear about you getting _engaged_? To Chikage’s boy? I had no idea you were even seeing someone!” Yukiko’s voice is shrill with disbelief, and Kaito’s willing to bet she’s frowning at him with the force of a thousand disappointments at the fact that she’d been left out of the loop of her son’s love life for a good number of years.

“Mum, one at a time, please.”

“ _Shinichi_. This isn’t the time for you to get smart with me,” and Kaito tries his best to hold back a snicker at Shinichi’s appropriately shamed expression.

“Sorry. I—well, the short story is that I did get engaged to Kaito. We’ve been seeing each other for, for a while now, really.”

“And yet you still went on those dates?”

Shinichi narrows his eyes at his phone, and Kaito’s hard pressed to not chuckle at his serious expression. “So you knew about those.”

It doesn’t take Yukiko longer than a couple of seconds to recover, but Shinichi only sighs at her when she says, “I was only trying to look out for you! What did Kaito have to say about those, then?”

“He knows they were—unavoidable. Ran is a formidable force by nature and… If it makes her happy, then what’s the harm of humouring her?” he replies, but Kaito doesn’t know if the guilt in his voice is an act, or if it’s the remnants of a time when Shinichi had to basically lie to her for nearly three years to keep his secret and her safe.

Shinichi’s mother hums, and then, “Where is he, then? Your fiancé?”

Kaito nearly stumbles on his own two feet when he hears her refer to him in that way, but he manages to collect himself to slide right next to Shinichi, his arm snaking around to grip the man’s waist. His hand isn’t in the video frame, but there’s no mistaking the fact that he’s got an arm wrapped around Shinichi, their bodies flushed together side by side.

Shinichi doesn’t freeze, but instantly relaxes in his hold, and puts the phone a little further to fit the both of them in frame comfortably.

“I heard my summons,” Kaito greets her, putting on his most winsome smile. “Hello, ma’am.”

Yukiko breaks into a grin at the sight of Kaito, and she trills in reply, “Oh, you’re the spitting image of Toichi when he was younger! I didn’t think Shinichi could have done better than Ran, but I’m glad to be proven wrong! How are you, Kaito?”

“Good, I’m doing well. I’m flattered you think I’m as good as Shinichi’s first love, but I’d like to protest—Shinichi definitely wasn’t thinking right when he thought he fell in love with me,” he grins, ignoring the other man’s soft, “Hmm, explains everything, honestly.”

Yukiko, however, rolls her eyes at him and waves her hand dramatically. “No surprises, you’re Chikage’s child as well, through and through. I’m glad Shinichi’s found someone, but I’m a bit shocked at how out of the blue this all seems,” and Kaito knows she’s been suspicious ever since her son had picked up the call.

This time, he takes the lead, senses Shinichi watching him from the corner of his eye as he answers, “Maybe to everyone else, but I’ve always known I wanted to marry Shinichi, ever since I fell in love with him.” He keeps it simple, but heartfelt enough as he adds, “We just wanted to be able to enjoy our time together without anyone’s eyes on us, especially with both of our careers picking up.”

“And now?” Yukiko presses, and Kaito smiles at her.

“The desire to keep it secret was outweighed by how much I absolutely want to show Shinichi off to the world,” he replies, and turns to press his lips lightly against Shinichi’s skin, right on the high point of his cheek, and hears the quiet gasp that escapes him.

When he pulls back, he makes sure to glance at the flush spreading across Shinichi’s face, the fake smile threatening to break on his lips, before turning his attention back to Yukiko. “Sorry, I—we were going to tell you, of course, but I was waiting until we both had a free day so we could go and get our rings together,” he says, smiling widely, anticipation clear on his expression.

There’s no hint of a smile on Yukiko’s face, though.

There are clear tear tracks running down her cheeks instead, makeup still immaculate and her nose wrinkled prettily as she sniffles loudly, watching the both of them.

“It feels like you were just a child yesterday, Shinichi, and now my baby’s going to be married,” she sobs, and Kaito remembers the last time he saw Conan, and he knows Shinichi hasn’t been a child for a long time now.

“Have you decided on a date yet?” She continues, and then it’s Shinichi’s turn to talk, Kaito swaying with him slightly.

“Nothing concrete,” he answers for them; adds, “We were looking at a late spring wedding, perhaps, we don’t want anything too grand.”

“Shinichi, that’s in less than five months,” his mother gapes at him, and Kaito doesn’t even bother muffling his snickering when his fake boyfriend only shrugs at her.

“Right. I’ll call up Chikage soon, so we can set a date together, okay? And don’t worry about the budget, I shouldn’t have to say it but I know you too well, son. I have to leave now, but your father sends his love and congratulations to you both as well.” To Kaito, she says, “Yusaku’s looking forward to attending one of your shows; he keeps wondering if you’ve managed to top Toichi in that department,” winking at him.

“I’ll reserve you two the best seats if you’re in town for the next show,” he promises, and Yukiko grins (so much like Shinichi, he thinks), blows them a kiss before ending the call.

As soon as the screen fades back to Shinichi’s lock screen (currently set to a clear night sky view, they should probably change that to a photo of the both of them), the man exhales heavily, and Kaito removes his hand from his hip, leaning back against the counter in a slump.

“Do you think she bought it, then?”

“Probably,” Shinichi sighs, rubbing at his temple. “But she’ll definitely be on the lookout for anything suspicious.”

“Right.” Suddenly, Kaito remembers something and glances at the detective, before he hesitantly says, “I—sorry about the kiss, by the way. I should’ve asked beforehand, but I thought she would suspect something if there was no single display of affection between the both of us.”

“Oh.” Shinichi blinks. “No, it’s fine, of course. We’re expected to behave that way, but it probably won’t do to be caught by surprise like that every time, though. If we could get used to it somehow, that would be good.”

And Kaito, who’s always looking for a reason to rile up the detective, even when they’re no longer rivals now, feels himself relaxing as he smirks at Shinichi, and teases, “Oh, babe, are you suggesting we _practice_ like we’re twelve and trying to get our first kiss experience out of the way?”

Shinichi doesn’t disappoint, his face growing red at an alarming pace, and Kaito has to duck the fist that’s being swung at him.

“ _Kaito_!”

He takes it a step further, grabs Shinichi’s arm, ignores his muffled yelp and pulls him close until they’re almost flush against each other, a hair’s breadth between them.

He doesn’t think he’s ever since Shinichi’s eyes from this up close; they’re staring at him carefully, gauging what he’s about to do next and even if Kaito needs this horrifically insane idea to work, he—

He’s not willing to lose Shinichi as a friend over it.

“For real, though, are you okay with stuff like that?” Kaito asks quietly. “We can definitely find another way around it if you’re uncomfortable with the whole thing.”

Shinichi blinks at him, before his expression breaks into something Kaito has seen countless times as Kid—lips curled at the corner and a defiant gaze strong enough to make Kaito think twice about his next move.

And then, before he can react, there’s a pair of lips pressed against his; soft, a bit dry and the angle’s a little awkward, but all in all, it definitely isn’t the worst kiss he’s had, by a long shot.

Shinichi pulls back too quickly for him to respond, and he steps out of Kaito’s grip, arms folded against his chest. “Don’t start treating me like I’m fucking fragile now, Kuroba.”

A laugh escapes Kaito, and he shakes his head in disbelief. Of course Shinichi wouldn’t back down. He _never_ does, and that’s why Kaito’s so fond of him. “Noted, detective,” he grins and adds, “Shall we try cuddling on the couch next?”

***

“Right, that’s—God, Shinichi, you’re pretty boney—ah! Watch your elbows, they’re like god damn weapons of their own!”

 “You wouldn’t have to have them poking your ribs if you’d just stop fidgeting—”

“I can’t get _comfortable_ , though—lemme just—”

“That’s not—fuck! Kaito, that tickles, you asshole!”

“Sorry, I’ll—like this, is this okay now?”

“… Yeah, this, this is fine.”

***

They don’t try kissing again, at least not on each other’s lips, but by seven in the evening Kaito’s gradually learned to tilt his cheek naturally towards Shinichi when the other man comes into his personal space, and he’s come to know the way the detective prefers to be touched (“You can hold me a little tighter than that”), around his nape, the curve of his waist and his lower back.

They go out that night to get their rings, and between the both of them, they manage to charm the jeweler so much so that she asks them if they’d like to have each other’s rings engraved for free and that’s how Kaito slides on a silver band with the engraving, ‘Kaitou’ on it, Shinichi’s own ring with the word ‘Meitantei’.

They’d chosen each other’s word, but somehow, neither is surprised by them in the least.

(“It fits us, I think,” Shinichi had commented, smiling, and Kaito couldn’t have asked for more.)

Kaito takes a photo of their hands linked together, rings beside each other that night at home on the couch, after they return from dinner (which was for _free_ , because Kaito had come up with the brilliant (“unscrupulous”, Shinichi sniffs) idea to propose to Shinichi this time with the ring they’d just bought, and the restaurant had offered to have their meal on the house). He sends the photo to his mother and Shinichi, who passes it along to his parents, before steeling himself, and uploads it on his Instagram profile.

He instantly switches off his phone the moment the photo goes live, unwilling to deal with the barrage of questions just yet.

Shinichi’s phone starts blaring with texts, true to form, but the only thing he does is comment on Kaito’s photo with a, “Yeah, it’s real. Sorry, can’t take questions now, a little busy with my fiancé” before switching off his own phone.

“They’re gonna be coming to all sorts of conclusions now,” Kaito says, when he catches a glimpse of Shinichi’s comment right before the screen goes dark. Wow, there’s already thirty comments and seventy-six likes? It’s barely been a minute since he’s posted the photo.

“Isn’t that the point,” Shinichi replies, and huh, he’s right, again.

He has a tendency to do that, Kaito thinks.

“True,” he acquiesces, and shifts around Shinichi again, an arm around the other man’s shoulders as he leans back, head tilted upwards. “Who do you think we should face first? Aoko or Ran? And when?”

Shinichi, who’s sort of tucked in against Kaito, shrugs, his shoulders brushing against Kaito’s chest. “The police wants me to come in tomorrow to help out with an investigation they’ve been doing for close to two months, so that could take between one day to the better part of a week, depending on how little information’s left to glean. But after that, maybe whoever had texted first? I’m pretty sure I saw Aoko’s name popping up on my phone earlier.”

“Oh, I thought Ran would have texted you first.”

“Maybe she was busy with Sera. I did turn off my phone right after you did,” Shinichi replies, but Kaito hears the doubt barely masked in nonchalance, and squeezes the detective’s shoulder firmly.

“Well, that’s one thing less to worry about, I suppose. I’m honestly not looking forward to either of our mothers’ next call or text. I have a feeling there’s going to be a storm of wedding preparations headed our way,” Kaito groans tiredly, and he lifts his head to see Shinichi muffling a snort.

“Kaito, we’re about to get _married_. Surely this was something you’d taken into account as well when you came up with this plan?”

Kaito feels the flush on his cheeks as Shinichi leans away to look at him sardonically, mouth pursed in judgement.

“Of course I did! I’m just hoping neither of them decides to take on the role of wedding planner and have _wisely_ chosen to hire someone else.”

“Oh, Kaito, sometimes I forget how childish you can be.”

“Excuse me, you’re _marrying_ this child.”

“… Fuck, I can’t believe I actually agreed to spend my next foreseeable days in holy matrimony with you.”

“No take backsies, _babe_.”

The next morning, Kaito finds his entire stash of hot chocolate, including the one he’d hidden in the library in the trick shelf he’d made for himself two years ago mysteriously missing.

Shinichi claims innocence the whole time.

(He gets it all back two days after when Shinichi’s done with the investigation, eyes bloodshot and barely walking in a straight line and Kaito forces him to eat, wash up and sleep in under half an hour.)

***

Aoko hits Kaito with her bag when they first meet after the whole announcement, the day after Shinichi had finished his case.

As Kaito yelps in fear, she turns to Shinichi in disbelief and exclaims, “This idiot? Shinichi, I thought your taste was leagues better than this!”

She doesn’t seem to care that Kaito’s whining in actual pain beside the detective, while Hakuba watches her with the faintest hint of worry mixed with mild amusement, or the fact that they’re currently in a very, _very_ fancy restaurant and everyone’s eyes are on them.

Thankfully, Hakuba reaches out to his girlfriend and squeezes her elbow, says, “Perhaps we should take our seats for the time being,” and somehow steers her to sit down. Shinichi follows suit, slipping his hand into Kaito’s and leads him back to his own seat, facing Aoko’s disgruntled expression.

A waitress comes by before anyone else can say anything, but it’s a short reprieve. As soon as she whisks away with their orders, Aoko narrows her eyes at the both of them.

“This is either a prank, or a bet, isn’t it?”

“Ahoko, how—” Kaito blinks as Shinichi’s palm clamps over his mouth for a second, enough to shut him up, before the latter removes it, only to link their fingers together beneath the table.

“It’s real,” Shinichi firmly says, looking at Aoko seriously. “I understand your suspicions—”

“Excuse me—”

“—but they’re baseless,” he finishes gently, smiling. “I’m very much looking forward to getting married to Kaito,” Shinichi turns to look at him, and wow, even Kaito finds it difficult to blush like that on demand, he needs to remember to ask how the other man does it.

Hakuba clears his throat, and Kaito instantly feels himself on edge. If there was anyone capable of figuring out their lie, it would be Aoko’s thrice-damned boyfriend and Kaito’s permanent pain in the neck.

“You’ll forgive us for being curious, since we had no idea you two were even dating,” he points out in that smug tone of his. It takes everything in Kaito to not mysteriously cause his blonde coif to be smothered in the next table’s alfredo sauce pasta.

“That’s totally understandable,” Shinichi replies smoothly before Kaito can. “I—well, I asked if we could keep it low key, just between the two of us.” He glances at Kaito, a small smile on his lips. “We’d just started our respective careers back then, and I know how seriously this ‘idiot’ takes his magic shows, after all.”

“Says the man who’d literally just come home from solving a case last night after being out for two days straight,” Kaito scoffs, leaning back in his seat as he lifts their hands that are still linked together, lazily flicking at his ear. “You’re lucky I proposed to your corpse-loving ass,” he teases, his grin growing wide at Shinichi’s smirk.

“Yeah,” he says simply, and there’s a moment where they’re just staring at each other, and damn—

They’re fucking crushing this act.

Aoko breaks the silence with a, “Wow. I honestly didn’t see this coming.”

“I don’t blame you—Kaito’s an acquired taste.”

“ _Shinichi_.”

“Yes, dear?” Shinichi tosses back at him innocently, which causes Aoko to snort as Kaito splutters, while Hakuba merely keeps    quiet. The waitress from before comes around again with their orders and to pour their drinks this time, and it’s then that Aoko starts to badger them about their proposal (“Fantastic, Shinichi figured I was going to do it but had no idea I completely forgot to get a ring”, “Technically, you did with those flower stems”), how long they’d been dating (“Two years, give or take”, “Feels like yesterday, honestly”), and finally, when they were going to tie the knot.

“Our parents have taken it out of our hands, but hopefully before summer,” Shinichi answers, and both Aoko and Hakuba’s eyes grow wide.

“That’s not very far off from now,” the blonde remarks, sipping on his wine ( _for added effect, no doubt_ , Kaito thinks). “What’s the rush?”

“Well,” Shinichi starts, but this time Kaito interrupts him, slipping an arm around the other man’s upper back and leaning against him slightly.

“We figured since we already know what we wanted, there was no point in having a long engagement,” he replies with a shrug, playing with the back of his fake fiancé’s hair absently. “Besides, it doesn’t really matter to me when or how it happens, as long as Shinichi’ll be there with me,” Kaito adds cheerfully, and inwardly fist pumps when Shinichi turns to grace his cheek with a well-practiced kiss.

“ _Aww_ ,” he hears Aoko coo, but he’s distracted by how Shinichi looks at him with blazing attention for a beat longer, before the detective seems to come back to himself, looking a little flushed and embarrassed.

“Uh, sorry, I—I’m still getting used to the fact that I get to do that now,” he says, an uncharacteristically shy grin on his face.

“So fucking cute,” Kaito breathes, and only when Shinichi snaps his gaze towards him does he realise that he hadn’t actually meant to say that. _Oops_.

It seems to finally do the trick for Hakuba, though, who looks less like he’s been sucking on a lemon all night. The rest of dinner is spent with Aoko asking Kaito about his tour, which he dives into with enthusiasm and successfully drives the conversation away from his and Shinichi’s engagement.

By the end of the night, Aoko doesn’t seem inclined to murder Kaito anymore, but as they leave the restaurant and get ready to go their separate ways, she pulls him aside, while Hakuba engages Shinichi in some detective talk; doesn’t even matter that they’re in different divisions, the both of them are still way too into their gory work. He snorts at the thought, and doesn’t see the way Aoko smiles at him watching Shinichi.

“Kaito,” Aoko speaks up, drawing his attention away from the other two men.

“What’s up?”

His childhood friend stays still for a couple of seconds, staring at somewhere over his shoulder. Kaito almost lifts up a hand to wave it in front of her face to make her snap out of whatever funk she’d suddenly fallen into, when Aoko quietly says, “You’re happy, right, Kaito?”

“I—yeah, of course I am, what do you mean, Aoko?” Shit, did he pause too long? Would she start suspecting him now?

But she doesn’t seem fazed. On the contrary, she only smiles up at him, and pats his shoulder in a manner reminiscent to the way she’d take care of him during high school, and all Kaito can do is just blink down at her in confusion.

“I’m really glad for the both of you,” she says instead. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it, but you two are a perfect fit.” And before Kaito can say anything else, she walks away from him, back to Hakuba and Shinichi.

She congratulates the two of them, scolds him, “You better send me an actual invitation card, no more announcing things on Instagram!” and then they’re calling out their goodbyes and he’s left wondering what that conversation with her was all about.

The ride home in the taxi is quiet, and when they finally walk through their front door, Kaito’s shoulders slump in relief as he lets out a groan, working out the kinks in his neck and shoulders. “God, that was more tiring than I’d thought,” he comments, watching Shinichi gracelessly drop down on their couch, tie loosened and collar slightly disarrayed.

“We did well though, I think,” Shinichi says, a yawn breaking his words, and Kaito remembers the man had barely slept the past few days, with the exception of last night, and shakes his head in exasperation.

“Yeah. I think Hakuba’s still kind of suspicious, but that’s just the kind of asshole he is,” he replies, grinning when he sees Shinichi’s lips twitch.

“He’s not all that bad,” Shinichi says, placating, but they both know it falls on deaf ears, as has been the case for the last six years.

Kaito snickers anyway, and a thought suddenly strikes him. “Hey, did Ran ever text?” He asks curiously.

Shinichi blinks at that, looking a little more awake. “Oh. No, I don’t think she has.”

Kaito decides then and there that he doesn’t like the way his fake fiancé’s face sort of crumples at that realisation. He wonders if Ran might have still harboured feelings—but last he’s heard, Shinichi’s childhood friend and first love was happily shacked up with her current girlfriend, so perhaps it’s something else that’s causing her to act this way.

“Let me call her up, maybe we can do breakfast this weekend?” Kaito offers, and Shinichi lifts his head slightly, narrowing his eyes at him. The man’s hair is already sticking up in odd places, and Kaito has to hold back from chuckling at the sight.

“Why?”

 _Why, indeed_. “I pretty much dragged you into this mess,” he points out, “even if you’d agreed to it,” he adds quickly when the detective opens his mouth, undoubtedly to argue. “I know you want to give her space, but the least she could do is just reject the invitation, right?”

Shinichi seems to deflate at that, and Kaito finds himself walking towards him, sitting down right beside the other man and squeezing his shoulder encouragingly. “She probably won’t, though. The two of you have been through hell together. I doubt this is the thing that would drive her away—frankly, I’d be insulted. I’m a fucking great catch.”

He gets Shinichi to snort at that at least, and the detective nods, smiling slightly.

“Thanks, Kaito.”

“Anytime, babe.”

***

_Coffee with me and Shinichi this Saturday?_

[11.42pm]

_You can bring Sera too_

[11.42pm]

_Sure. Sera’s not in town though so it’s just me_

[12.07am]

_Okay, see you_

[12.10am]

_See you two, then_

[1.24am]

***

Kaito remembers the last time he’d seen Shinichi scared.

Granted, he wasn’t exactly Shinichi back then. It’d been the last time Kaito had met Conan, after a heist that seemed all too easy, even with the presence of the pint-sized detective.

He hadn’t been surprised when the child himself had walked through the door leading to the roof, where he’d been waiting with the gem of the night, a gorgeous emerald, part of the inheritance of a young royal from a small island out in the west—a dud, unfortunately, when it didn’t glow red in the middle when he held it up to the moonlight.

“Detective,” Kaito greeted, smirking down at the boy as he fiddled with the gem. “Having a rough day today?”

Conan didn’t say anything, though, hands in his pockets—his normal stance. But he’d looked up at the gem Kaito was holding, and then asked, “When do you think you’ll find it?”

Kaito froze for a split second, before he chuckled at the kid, mask back in place with a knowing smile. But if there was anyone that was capable of looking past his poker face, it would be Conan. “When it’s time,” he replied lightly, but truth be told, he was nearing the end of his patience; Pandora was proving to be more elusive than he’d hoped.

It wouldn’t do to say any of it to the detective, though.

Conan had made his way slowly towards where Kaito was perched at the edge of the ledge, ready to fly off at a moment’s notice. He merely watched the boy, until Conan had stopped a few feet away and—

There was hesitation on his face, something Kaito hadn’t known was something he was capable of.

And even as Conan had taken off his glasses and smiled at him, Kaito had to hold himself back from demanding what the fuck was causing him to look that _terrified_ in front of him, lips trembling.

“Detective?” He let slip, and fuck, that’s twice now that Conan’s made him lose his composure in the past two minutes.

“Perhaps I should have tried harder with my deductions, bade you a better farewell, since this is the final heist I would have attended,” the boy spoke suddenly, looking at the ground, and wait, farewell? But Conan was the _highlight_ of his heists!

“Oh? Are they not entertaining enough for you anymore?” Kaito teased him; but he can feel his smile growing faker by the second.

When Conan turned his gaze towards him, Kaito was struck by how big his eyes were; how much younger the kid looked without the undoubtedly high-tech glasses; he saw the young man Conan probably looked like, if it wasn’t for whatever it was that had caused him to become this way.

“They’ve been enjoyable,” Conan replied quietly, and Kaito heard all the sincerity and regret he’d seen in those eyes. “But just like you have your mission, I have something I need to see to as well, and there’s been significant developments.”

And suddenly, Kaito understood that this wasn’t just a farewell to his heists.

Conan was trying to say goodbye to him—

Because he didn’t know if they’d ever meet each other again, if anything were to go awry with Conan’s own battle with his enemies during what seemed to be his final showdown with them.

 _Fuck that_ , he’d thought then.

“Detective,” he said, staring hard at the child, whose fear was so palpable that it was taking everything in Kaito to not cross those few steps between them, just to shake it out of him. “The next time we meet—”

“Kid, it’s not certain we will—” Conan, no, _Shinichi_ had tried to interrupt, but Kaito merely barreled on.

“The _next time_ we see each other again, I’d like to meet you, as you were meant to be,” he’d finished firmly, noting the beginnings of a noise rumbling from behind the door. Later than he’d expected, but then again, Conan probably hadn’t been much of a help that evening anyway.

Kaito had hopped off the ledge then, to bridge the distance between them. He’d come to a stop before the detective, and then crouched down to look at him properly.

“I look forward to seeing you again,” he had whispered, and before Conan could react, Kaito had lifted up a tiny hand to place a white rose he’d conjured, seemingly out of nowhere, right on Conan’s palm, and whipped his cape around to form his hang glider, just as the door was blasted open by a belligerent Inspector Nakamori and several police officers covered in snow string and confetti.

He caught a glimpse of Conan patting his chest pocket, his eyes growing wide in surprise behind the glasses he’d hastily placed on, and chuckled to himself, all thoughts of the emerald replaced by big blue eyes looking at him so carefully.

***

“I’m not sure about this, Kaito.”

Those same blue eyes are looking at him with uncertainty now, so different from his self-assured self that Kaito doesn’t even think about the fact that there isn’t an audience right now; it’s just the both of them sat in Shinichi’s favourite coffee shop, waiting for Ran while their coffees grow cold, but he takes Shinichi’s hand in his, and lightly traces the ring around his finger, grinning widely enough for the both of them.

“It’ll be fine,” Kaito says, sounding more confident than he actually feels. “I mean, you two have been through way more than a mere secret engagement, I doubt this would top the “So the kid you thought was your friend’s cousin turned out to be him all along thanks to an evil villain that had tried to murder him after your first date” conversation,” he adds, and smirks when Shinichi involuntarily snorts at that.

“When you put it that way,” the detective acquiesces, and squeezes Kaito’s fingers gratefully.

“Oh, I—sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” someone says to their side, and when Kaito looks up it’s to the sight of Ran’s wide eyes staring at their linked hands.

“Ran,” Shinichi says, and abruptly stops. His hand grows limp in Kaito’s hold.

Kaito looks between the two of them, and wonders if he’d been presumptuous in asking Ran to meet them, when she hadn’t even contacted Shinichi at all, but he summons the rest of his bravado, letting go of Shinichi’s hand and waves at Ran, gesturing her to take the seat opposite them, which she does so hesitantly. Someone comes by to take her order, and then it’s just the three of them.

“No, it’s fine, you didn’t interrupt anything at all—it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Kaito starts, friendly and unassuming. Ran looks like she’s caught between wanting to run away or hit Shinichi just like Aoko had done to him, and there’s a part of him that feels guilty for putting her in that position.

But there’s a bigger part of him that just wants Shinichi to stop looking like a kicked puppy, and if it takes having to make awkward small talk to fill in the silence, then he’ll gladly put on his poker face—after all, it takes two to get married, or however the saying goes.

“I—yeah, it has,” Ran replies, smiling slightly. “How was your tour, Kaito?”

“It was great,” he says, and innocently adds, “I didn’t think it could have gone any better, but Shinichi’s visit when I was in Las Vegas certainly proved me wrong. It’s when I proposed to him, after all.”

“Oh—”

“ _Kaito_ , that’s—Ran, I, sorry, that was—”

The woman in question puts her hand up, effectively shutting Shinichi up. She glances between the both of them, and Kaito sees a flicker of sadness cross her face when she settles her gaze back on her childhood friend.

“Shinichi, why didn’t you just tell me?”

And then Shinichi’s looking at him, and Kaito doesn’t know what the exact expression that his fake fiancé’s making currently, but it makes him reach out to play with the ends of Shinichi’s hair at the back of his neck, nodding at him encouragingly.

He’s not sure if Shinichi’s completely acting at this point.

(Honestly, the line’s kind of blurring for him right now, too.)

But Shinichi only exhales, and turns to look at Ran again before he answers slowly, “I was—it wasn’t like the blind dates were all that exhausting, and I just wanted to make you happy,” and it’s the story they’d both agreed on, but Kaito’s not sure why it’s making his stomach churn to hear Shinichi sound so… _Small_.

“But how were you okay with them when you were with Kaito this whole time? I mean, you two had to have been together by then, right?” She presses, confusion and frustration bleeding into her tone and he feels Shinichi tensing underneath him, and that’s not where he’d wanted this to go.

“Because _I_ was fine with the whole thing,” Kaito steps in firmly, and they turn to look at him. “I didn’t mind them; I thought they were hilarious, and Shinichi did solve a case during one of them,” he winks at Shinichi, who merely rolls his eyes at him.

Not typical fiancé behaviour, but if there’s anyone that really knows him, it’s Ran, and it means this is probably their biggest test in determining if the whole fake engagement shit is truly sellable to everyone. “However,” Kaito adds, glancing back at Ran, “Since everything’s out in the open now, I’d appreciate it if you’d calm down on that front. I’m sure this would be a deterrent anyways,” and takes Shinichi’s left hand, holding it up so that his ring is on full display.

The detective doesn’t say anything, but there’s that flush again, and he’s barely able to look at Kaito in the eye.

It takes Ran a couple of moments to answer, but she looks more relieved now, her smile not quite as tight it had been before. “I think that’s possible,” she says, and Shinichi smiles softly at her. “Congratulations, you two. When’s the wedding?”

“May, probably, we haven’t really fixed a date,” Shinichi replies, and Ran blinks at him.

“Oh, wow. Well—I don’t think it really matters, as long as you’re happy, the both of you,” she grins widely, and the last of the tension in Shinichi’s shoulders visibly disappear.

They talk for a little longer, but eventually Ran has to leave to run some errands, and when they get up Kaito takes the chance to reach out and hold Shinichi’s hip, murmurs, “You two go on ahead, I’ll be in the restroom,” placing a quick kiss on his cheek before leaving the two friends on their own.

He has no doubt that there are things Ran still wants to ask Shinichi, but he figures it’s best that he isn’t around for it. He gives them five minutes while he washes up in the restroom, and when he walks out of the café Kaito spots them talking to one side, Ran’s hands on her hips as she shakes her head, Shinichi shrugging back but still grinning at her, arms folded against his chest.

In another life, they’d be together, Kaito muses. If things hadn’t been the way it had been back then; if Shinichi hadn’t been too fucking curious for his own good, it probably would have been Ran with the ring around her finger instead of him.

He doesn’t get a chance to examine the way that thought doesn’t sit well with him, because Shinichi catches his eye, and smiles at him the way someone in love with their whole being would, and his acting takes Kaito’s breath away for a fraction of second.

God, he’s good at this.

And somehow that lights up the competitive spark in him, the one that’s always kept aflame with Shinichi’s cheerful, goading remarks and knowing smirks; it makes him walk up to the other man and wrap an arm around Shinichi’s waist, hand secured on his hip.

Ran, to her credit, merely grins at him. “I should go now, but it was… Nice, catching up with both of you. Thank you for inviting me out,” she looks at Kaito meaningfully.

“Let’s do this again, when Sera’s back,” he answers, and tightens his grip on Shinichi a little—but enough to catch her attention. There’s a smirk playing on her lips, but she doesn’t mention anything, and bids them farewell instead.

“That would be great. I’ll be going, then. See you, don’t forget to send me the wedding invitation!” Ran giggles, and walks past them, the two men waving their own goodbyes to her.

But Kaito still doesn’t let go of his hold, though.

“Is she looking at us?” He whispers, his back turned towards Ran now.

Shinichi’s eyes flicker past Kaito’s shoulder, and then he settles his gaze back on him. “She’s got her phone out, but she’s glancing at us.”

“You think she needs a little more convincing?”

Shinichi raises an eyebrow at that. “Kaito…” He says uncertainly, but his blue eyes slowly glance down on Kaito’s lips, before looking back up at him again. “Now?”

Kaito grins teasingly at him, and just because he can, lifts his other hand to cradle the edge of Shinichi’s jaw. “Only if you’re okay with it, babe.”

It makes Shinichi narrow his eyes, lips curled at the edges, doubts completely disappeared. “For fuck’s sake, what did I _say_ ,” he hisses, before closing the distance between them.

This time, Kaito takes the opportunity to tilt his head a little and press back gently, lips slotted against each other. He’s got one hand on the small of Shinichi’s back and the other tracing his cheek; Shinichi’s got the edge of his shirt in his grip, and it’s only when he realises that they’re still in public that he carefully detaches himself from the other man, his hands migrating to the safe positions of the detective’s arms.

There’s a moment of quiet, and then—

“I’m fairly sure Ran took a picture of that.”

It crashes the odd atmosphere Kaito’s starting to feel from that kiss, his skin tight with some unfamiliar tension, and he laughs a little louder than normal, but Shinichi doesn’t seem to notice the slight weirdness. “Tell her to send it to either one of us,” he answers, and finally releases Shinichi’s arms.

“Home then, fiancé?”

“Oh God—are you going to start using that word all the time, now?”

“Shinichi, as my _fiancé_ , you are—”

***

Hattori apparently makes an appearance while Shinichi is on an investigation the next week, knee deep in contradicting clues and no suspects, and the Osakan nearly decks him before loudly wailing on the spot.

“Why didn’t you tell me?! Now who’s going to be my wingman when I visit you next time!”

“What the—Heiji, how the hell did you even know I was here?”

“I’m forbidden from revealing my sources. Also, Kaito said to pick up some toothpaste, you guys are running out.”

“Heiji, for the love of God, get your ass out of my crime scene before I murder you myself.”

(When Shinichi storms into their living room at three in the fucking morning, Kaito takes one look at him, and immediately sets off four different coloured smoke bombs before disappearing for the better part of the day, and only reappears with Hattori in tow, throwing the latter at Shinichi and says, “He’s your responsibility, _darling_ ,” before making himself scarce again.

It’s no surprise that Shinichi only speaks to him again once he manages to get Heiji back to his own hometown.

Kaito still gets his toothpaste, though, so he’s counting it as a win.)

***

It’s a miracle how both Chikage and Yukiko are on two separate continents, neither of them close to either Shinichi or Kaito, and yet they _still_ manage to book their sons for appointments with seven different bakeries, three printing and lettering shops, a tailor, and eleven goddamn luxury hotels with ballrooms the size of Shinichi’s fucking mansion.

(“They’re not the same size, Kaito.”

“You’re right; they’re _bigger_.”)

The appointments are scattered over the better part of a month, in between Shinichi’s cases (which initially had dwindled in number, because the station found out and _insisted_ Shinichi take a break, but it only led to cases being prolonged and the detective having to politely insist they put him back on his regular rotation) as well as Kaito’s own experiments with his magic tricks. There’s a show coming up, nothing as grand as his previous tour, but the owner of the local theatre where he used to hold weekly shows back when he was just getting started had asked if he was interested in some sort of charity event and, well, he’d missed being in his workshop.

Halfway through the appointments, Kaito nearly throws a slice of cake out of the window, his thirty-seventh one at that point.

Shinichi had looked torn between either joining or admonishing him, but between the two of them they manage to pull through and choose a flavor for each tier of their horrifically extravagant wedding cake.

(“Think of the guests and their individual palate preferences!” Yukiko had said matter-of-factly, when Shinichi asked why the hell they’d needed to choose seven fucking flavors for a cake.)

Shinichi actually walks out of the sixth hotel they’d had a meeting with, because the manager was “checking you out the entire time, Kaito, it’d be remiss of me to not make a scene, she made innuendos about the ‘spacious’ restrooms, for God’s sake”.

Kaito only replies, “You just wanted to get the fuck out of there because she was eyeing _both_ of us, detective.”

The seventh hotel fails to be marginally better, on account of the murder-suicide case in one of the penthouses.

(Kaito makes sure to embarrass Shinichi with loud proclamations of “That nerd with that hot ass solving the case? Yeah, I’m getting _married_ to him” while showing off his ring. Needless to say, neither of them returned to the hotel after that.)

The tailor proves to be the weirdest one out of all of the appointments they’d had, though.

Kaito had been running late; he’d been distracted by a new trick he was having a slight difficulty perfecting (the flames were a little too big) and by the time he’s on the way to the shop he texts Shinichi to go on ahead with his fitting first, trying to make sure his own shirt isn’t too obviously singed at the edges.

When he finally arrives at the tailor, a good friend of their parents, apparently, an older, tall and tanned man with a wide smile greets him at the door and introduces himself as “Ito, and you must be Kuroba, then. You look exactly like Toichi did when they did their own fittings at my master’s shop all those years ago back when I was just an apprentice.”

Kaito surreptitiously wipes some leftover ash on his jeans before shaking Ito’s hand, and replies, “I’m Kuroba Kaito, yeah. Nice to meet you, Ito. Is, uh, Shinichi here?”

Ito’s smile, if possible, grows bigger at the mention of Shinichi’s name. “Kudou, right? Your fiancé’s just getting finished with his fitting. Here, let me just…” He leads Kaito further inside the shop; small and neat. Kaito catches sight of some of the suits that are hung up on the walls and restrains himself from staring, because those look like quality he wouldn’t be able to afford on his and Shinichi’s combined salaries alone.   

God, how much money are their parents throwing at this goddamn scam?

While he’s trying his best to shake off the thought and the guilt it brings, Ito stops in front of some doors, and Kaito realises it’s a small waiting area right in front of the changing rooms, with a couple of couches and some tea and biscuits already laid out on the coffee table.

“Take a seat and help yourself, I’m sure Kudou’s almost done,” Ito informs him, and then he hears Shinichi calling out from behind one of the doors of the changing rooms.

“Is that you, Kaito?”

“Hey babe,” he greets, seamlessly slipping into loving fiancé mode as he takes a seat on the couch facing the rooms. “You alright in there?”

“Yeah, I’m just about done, I believe. Ito?”

“Yes, sir,” the man says as he walks towards Shinichi’s room, and slips inside. “Let me just adjust—there, _perfect_ ,” and then the door opens and Kaito has a hard time trying not to spill the tea he’d just poured for himself, because Shinichi steps out of the room and he—

He looks _stunning_.

They’d decided on a Western style wedding, on account of how fond Kaito is of suits and Shinichi didn’t really have any preferences, but he’d also forgotten that Shinichi cuts an imposing figure when he’s not lounging around in a sweater or pants, or his normal dress shirt when he’s doing his detective work.

Shinichi’s got a full on three-piece grey suit on; the jacket’s unbuttoned to show off a vest that’s fitted perfectly to his slim figure and showing off his trim waist; his hair is slightly more ruffled than usual, like he’d had a little trouble with the clothes and Kaito doesn’t realise that he’s close to actively drooling until he hears Shinichi calling his name.

“-to? Kaito? Hello?”

He blinks, and suddenly he sees Shinichi frowning at him worriedly. Behind him, Ito smirks knowingly and Kaito is violently reminded of the fact that he’s not actually getting married to Shinichi, that this is all merely an elaborate trick.

Fuck, why does that make him feel so off-centered, then?

“Babe, are you okay?” Shinichi asks, walking towards him and that’s what finally snaps him out of it. And then Shinichi places a warm hand on his cheek, and Kaito remembers that he’s supposed to be reassuring his fake fiancé that he’s not currently dying of a stroke or something.

“I—yeah, I’m, I’m good, sorry. You just—literally took my breath away, darling,” Kaito says with a grin he doesn’t feel.

Shinichi only snorts at that, and takes his hand away as he steps back, showing the full outfit to Kaito, and he sees that there are pins in the jacket keeping it in place and in the pants as well, and it finally occurs to him that this _isn’t_ Shinichi’s actual wedding suit, they’d just been taking measurements. It means the detective has the potential to look even more devastatingly amazing and—

That was not a thought Kaito is prepared to deal with right now.

“What do you think, though?” Shinichi prompts him, hands on his hips and his head cocked to the side. “I figured—well, I just assumed you’d want something in white, so I thought I could have something a little more traditionally darker,” he adds, smiling softly and wow, that’s awfully sentimental and considerate of him.

“You look fantastic, Shinichi,” Kaito answers sincerely, and he’s rewarded with one of Shinichi’s rare bright grins.

“Thanks, Kaito.”

And then Ito comes forward, checks the pins on the jacket and the pants, humming to himself, and declares Shinichi a near perfect specimen or something along those lines, and then while Shinichi goes off to change it’s Kaito’s turn to get measured.

Ito’s deft hands wrap measuring tape seemingly everywhere, and it’s only because he’s had practice putting on a suit as Kid and his own career as a magician that he’s able to put on his vest and jacket on autopilot, trying to shove the image of Shinichi smiling at him in that damn grey suit to the back of his mind.

However, the image immediately gets replaced with the slightly awestruck look in Shinichi’s eyes when he steps out of his own changing room, in a pristine white suit, not unlike the one he’d used as the phantom thief.

“How do I look?” Kaito asks, holding his arms out with a bravado he’s not sure is all that convincing right now.

Shinichi stands up from where he’d been sitting on the couch, and walks towards him, and for a moment, as the detective smooths his hand against Kaito’s shoulder, he nearly forgets that this is all just _acting_ , god damn it.

“You look like someone I knew, once upon a time,” Shinichi murmurs, toying with the collar of Kaito’s jacket.

“Oh? Was this person someone special, then?” Kaito asks teasingly, and it’s only through sheer willpower that his smile doesn’t falter when Shinichi chuckles, glancing up to meet his gaze.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

***

Kaito hadn’t expected his first time meeting Shinichi’s parents to be when he’s backstage in his dressing room, right before a performance, top hat slightly askew and the theatre manager, a passionate college student with a penchant for going absolutely speechless when she’s overly excited, is flapping her hands everywhere and letting out little yelps every now and then, which Kaito interprets as, “Good luck”, or something along those lines.

“Oh, Kaito, you look incredibly dashing,” Yukiko exclaims from beside her husband. Shinichi appears from behind them, and walks towards him calmly, glancing at the theatre manager in bemusement.

“Thanks, ma’am,” Kaito grins at her, but his attention is arrested by the sound of the theatre manager slowly hyperventilating beside him.

Kaito glances at her, who’d turned at the sound of the Kudous’ arrival, and the poor thing is absolutely beetroot red, staring at Shinichi.

“Hello,” Shinichi greets her. She squeaks in reply.

“Right, hey, could you see to the other staff for me, Riko?” Kaito says firmly, because the poor girl looks like she’s about to collapse, and then Riko nods quickly before sprinting out of his dressing room.

Shinichi takes one last glance at her, before he turns to raise his eyebrows at Kaito in question.

“She’s, uh, easily excitable,” he replies lamely. The other man snorts at that, and then he steps in close and it’s frightening how Kaito’s body moves automatically to meet Shinichi’s kiss, and then the detective pulls back and deftly fixes Kaito’s hat.

“Now you look marginally presentable,” Shinichi says approvingly, and Kaito only laughs at how much of a dork the detective is.

“Where would I be without you, babe?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d have done alright if Chikage had anything to say about that,” Yusaku comments and oh, he’d—

Totally forgotten about the other Kudous.

“Thank you, sir,” he replies, recovering quickly, and adds, “I’ve saved you seats, of course, I can show you—”

But Shinichi places a hand on his arm, and interrupts him. “It’s fine, Kaito. Is it the usual place you’d save for me here?”

And the stupid thing is, he’s always saved a seat for Shinichi, long before they’d even agreed to this fake engagement, when there weren’t as many people in the audience as tonight; it’s just been a thing he’s done except right now he can’t help but think of how romantic that sounds this time, coming from Shinichi.

“Yeah, up in the box,” he confirms, smiling widely to hide just how flustered he’s currently feeling right now, and it has nothing to do with stage fright.

But somehow Shinichi always manages to pull him out of it; he nods, and then says loudly enough for his parents to hear: “Try to impress me tonight, dear,” and that makes him narrow his eyes in determination, smile transforming into the smirk he’d wear as Kid back then, and as a full-fledged magician in his own right now.

“Oh, darling, I have every intention of doing so.” Kaito winks, and then takes Shinichi’s hand in his own, before lifting it up to press a soft kiss against his knuckles, the ring around the detective’s finger slightly warm from his body heat. “I’ll see you and your parents after the show, yeah?”

There’s an odd smile on Shinichi’s lips, but the detective only squeezes his hand gently, and says, “Sure,” before letting go to walk back towards his parents, who’d silently watched the entire thing play out with big, amused smiles. They leave after Yukiko and Yusaku wish him good luck, but it takes everything in Kaito to stop thinking about how much he hadn’t wanted to let go of Shinichi’s hand.

***

The show goes off without a hitch, as expected.

When Kaito heads backstage towards his dressing room a few hours later, his costume miraculously unsinged, he finds Shinichi already there with an apologetic smile.

“My parents had to leave right after, but they wanted me to tell you they absolutely loved it,” he explains, and Kaito nods in understanding. He begins removing his costume, placing the top hat onto his dresser carefully and looks around for his usual shirt and jeans.

“How did you find the show, though? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He asks, his voice slightly muffled by his jacket as he removes it.

“Oh, I’m sure the online comments are more than enough to stroke your ego,” Shinichi drawls in reply, and Kaito snickers.

“Does that mean you weren’t able to figure out all of my tricks, detective?” He says, and then, “Sorry, let me just finish changing—” as he hastily gets rid of the rest of his suit, and puts on his normal clothes.

When he looks back up at Shinichi, the detective’s looking at him with resignation; or more accurately, he’s looking at Kaito’s hair in near despair. He bridges the distance between them as Kaito straightens up, and then—

“I swear, has it ever seen a brush,” Shinichi mutters, his hands in his hair and fuck, that, that feels _way_ too good and Kaito finds himself having to chew the inside of his cheek and hoping to God Shinichi doesn’t hear the way his heart is starting to beat too loud and too fast as Shinichi concentrates on taming his bird’s nest of hair, long, deft fingers brushing through, and somehow regains his composure when the other man steps back to scrutinize him.

“Well, have I passed your inspection, detective?” Kaito asks innocently, but inside him there’s a full-blown panic attack that’s barely being repressed.

Shinichi narrows his eyes for a second, and then he flashes a grin at Kaito, cheekily replies, “Barely, but you could treat me to pizza and I’d probably be inclined to change my mind,” and that’s when Kaito realises he’s broken the most important rule of this whole thing.

He’s fallen in love with his fake fiancé and detective tease extraordinaire, Kudou Shinichi.


	2. I won't let go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaito is made abruptly aware of the fact that he's broken all three rules of this fake engagement.
> 
> 1) Don't lie to each other.  
> 2) Don't tell anyone.  
> 3) Don't fall in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please heed the added tags and the rating change!!
> 
> Thank you so much to those who left kudos, bookmarked and commented on the first chapter! You guys are so nice ahhh. I hope you enjoy this second one as well!

There’s a little under three months left to their wedding, and Kaito’s still coming to terms with the fact that he’s stupidly head over heels for his housemate of nearly six years—the man who’d willingly gone along with this incredibly mad idea of being married to each other for the sole purpose of, what, one-upping their friends and loved ones?

It’s a recipe for disaster, he knows. If Shinichi finds out, he’d absolutely insist they’d stop this sham of a wedding for the sake of their friendship.

But the thing is, Kaito’s starting to learn just how greedy and selfish he can be when they finally get the last of their fittings done, and he’s having the most difficult time trying to not imagine Shinichi waiting for him at the end of the wedding aisle in his smart charcoal grey suit, still believing that their relationship is just that of good friends with purely platonic feelings for each other.

It doesn’t help that Shinichi had looked at him with wide eyes and a soft smile when Kaito emerged from his changing room, to applause and wolf whistles from Aoko and Ran who had both tagged along. It’s only because both of them and Ito had been around that he had found a flimsy excuse to slip his arm around Shinichi’s waist once he was close enough, and drew him in for a kiss that had him testing his impeccable control to not make it deeper, dirtier, now that all he wonders is how Shinichi’s mouth tastes if they were alone, without an audience.

That had been three whole days ago. Shinichi’s currently caught up in a huge international case involving Interpol, and the less Kaito sees him, the more he can’t help but fail to deny that he misses Shinichi.

Because _he’s in love with Shinichi_.

A part of him understands that this is a blessing in disguise; with Shinichi not around, he’s free to stew in panic-induced breakdowns about what the hell he’s supposed to do, thanks to this incredibly mistimed realization. But it also means he’s stuck in an endless loop of “I’m in love with my former rival turned best friend turned fake fiancé what the fuck” because his manager had contacted him and his next tour doesn’t start until late autumn, which means he literally has all the damn time in the world to panic until the wedding is over and done with.

Basically, he ends up nearly exploding the workshop in order to distract himself, and it’s as he’s just done putting out the flames and choking on smoke that his phone rings, and of course it’s Shinichi.

“He—ugh, sorry, hey, what’s up?” Kaito greets when he picks up the call, not bothering to try and hide his coughing as he walks out of the workshop into the adjoining kitchen to grab a glass of water.

“Wha—are you alright, Kaito, what the hell happened?” Shinichi says incredulously. Kaito takes a moment to drink before he answers, clearing his throat of any leftover smoke he’d inhaled.

“Just, uh, experimenting, nothing to worry. How’s the case?”

“… At least tell me the house is still standing.”

“Yes, unlike you, probably. When’s the last time you actually slept?” Kaito shoots back, hearing the note of tiredness in Shinichi’s voice. “And I don’t mean a ten minute power nap.”

Shinichi sighs on the other end, before he quietly replies, “Probably more than 24 hours ago, if you mean sleeping more than two hours straight.”

“Fuck, Shinichi—”

“I’m fine, Kaito, I’ll—I’ll be alright. I just want to get this case over and done with, and I think… I’m hopeful it won’t take too long,” Shinichi says soothingly even through his apparent exhaustion, as if Kaito’s the one that’s running on fumes and coffee, and Kaito has to hold back the urge to try and walk towards the station right now to give his stupid fake fiancé a goddamn hug before dragging him back home to get some actual sleep. “I just wanted to let you know that we might have a big lead, and that means we could close the case by tonight or tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he sighs, resigned. “All the best for that, but I doubt you’ll need it, detective. I’ll see you soon, then?”

This time, when Shinichi replies, Kaito hears the smile in his voice, and it takes everything in him not to tear up, because it’s not, it’s not _real_.

“I’ll be home before you know it, babe.”

But Kaito is a master class actor—he bites his lip hard enough to stop the trembling, takes the phone away for a fraction of a second as he swallows audibly, and brings it back to answer sternly, but light-hearted enough that Shinichi shouldn’t have reason to suspect him.

“I’ll try to make sure the fire’s out before then. Be safe, Shinichi.”

“As safe as I always am.”

Somehow, that never sounds reassuring, coming from the detective.

***

The next time his phone rings, it’s nearly eleven at night, his workshop has magically been restored to its usual condition, which is organized in a way only Kaito’s accustomed to (“It’s just messy, Kaito,” Shinichi would snort), and he’s just calmed down from a meltdown caused by a photo he’d found while he was researching on his laptop of Shinichi and him.

It’d been taken by Ran, when they’d had coffee together over two months ago; he doesn’t remember tilting his body to meet Shinichi when they’d kissed back then, but evidently he had, because his back isn’t completely turned towards Ran like how he thought it had been.

Instead, both Kaito’s and Shinichi’s side profiles are in plain view, their heads angled and mouths fitted against each other; Shinichi’s got his hands around Kaito’s waist, fingers clutching the edge of his shirt, and Kaito’s hand is firmly secured on the other man’s back, as if bringing him closer, his other hand on Shinichi’s cheek, caught in mid-caress.

Kaito had finally understood what that weird feeling he’d had, right after stepping back from the kiss with Shinichi.

He hadn’t wanted to step away from Shinichi in the first place.

And then he remembered it’s been days since he’d had any reason to kiss Shinichi like that, and then _that_ triggered the meltdown.

When Kaito glances at his phone, his eyes narrow in confusion. Why would Hakuba be calling him?

“Did Aoko finally break up with you?”

But Hakuba doesn’t rise to the bait. “Kuroba, where are you right now?” His voice is roughened at the edges, anxiety bleeding around the stern tone he’s holding on to. It makes the hairs on the back of Kaito’s neck stand, because Hakuba isn’t one to lose his composure.

“I’m at home, what—”

“It’s Kudou.”

Kaito’s blood runs cold. “Hakuba, what the fuck happened to Shinichi?” He doesn’t recognize his voice.

“He was grappling with our suspect, and we had reason to believe the suspect had no more weapons, but there was a knife—” Hakuba doesn’t get to finish the rest of his sentence because Kaito instantly gets up and starts looking for his wallet and keys, fear and worry warring in his mind when he thinks about what the other man had just told him.

“Text me which hospital he’s at,” Kaito interrupts, swearing when it takes him a few seconds longer than it should have to look for his coat. _Shit, Shinichi’s been stabbed, what the hell—_

“Kuroba, he’s in emergency right now and they’re not going to let just anyone in—”

“I don’t give a fuck, just text me,” he demands, and hangs up immediately before calling for a taxi. A moment later, his phone chimes with a text and Kaito curses when he sees that the hospital is all the way on the other side of town.

A taxi arrives after a few minutes of him pacing in the doorway, waiting, and when he gets into the vehicle his phone rings again, this time with an unknown number.

It takes him an insane amount of control before he’s able to answer the call somewhat normally. “Hello?”

A young woman’s voice greets him on the other end of the line. “Hello, is this Kuroba Kaito?”

“Yes, who’s calling?”

“This is North Hospital,” and everything in Kaito just _freezes_. There’s a pounding in his ears, his vision suddenly blurry and he barely hears the woman saying, “We found you listed as Kudou Shinichi’s emergency contact. We’d like to inform you that Mr. Kudou is currently undergoing surgery right now due to an accident, and—”

“I’m already on my way, is Shinichi, is he alright?” Kaito hardly spares a thought to how rudely he’d just cut off the woman; he needs to know if the stupid detective is fine, because the man had already tried to say goodbye once and Kaito—

He’s not willing to have a repeat of that.

“Sorry sir, we’re not able to reveal that information on the phone,” hospital lady says, and Kaito grits his teeth in lieu of swearing at nothing and everything.

“I’ll be there soon,” he replies instead, and hangs up before the woman can reply.

Kaito doesn’t need to hear one more person telling him that Shinichi’s been hurt; what he needs is to see for himself that Shinichi’s alright, that he’s _alive_ , that whatever it is that had happened couldn’t have taken away the man he’s just discovered he’s in love with.

The ride takes an eternity and a half; by the time he arrives at the hospital’s A&E he manages to give the driver one too much money without waiting for his change, and then he’s sprinting across the lobby, blasting the main doors wide open in his haste.

The first person he sees is Hakuba, whose head snaps up at the sight of him.

“Kuroba,” he says grimly as he gets up, but Kaito doesn’t have time for him right now. From the corner of his eye he sees Inspector Mouri watching him as well, and there are a few other uniformed officers in the vicinity.

He marches right up to the information desk, and asks with all the politeness he’s able to muster, “I’m Kuroba Kaito, Detective Kudou Shinichi’s emergency contact. Where the hell is he?”

Hakuba, who had trailed behind him, merely sighs. “For fuck’s sake, Kuroba.”

Kaito has to give the two female nurses manning the desk credit, because they don’t even flinch. They’re probably used to dealing with distraught friends and family members.

“He’s currently resting after his surgery. He’s in stable condition, but unfortunately, only married partners and family members are allowed to see him tonight,” one of them answers him matter-of-factly, but Kaito isn’t about to let it go that easily, and holds up his left hand, feeling his poker face shatter at last.

“I’m his goddamn _fiancé_ , that has to fucking count, right?!” He presses on harshly, his voice breaking as he stares at the two women. “Please, we’re going to get married in like, three months, I just—I just need—fuck, I need to see that he’s okay,” he begs, and shit, he’s actually crying now.

But it seems to do the trick, because the other woman sighs, and hands him a piece of tissue, which he takes woodenly, before she says, “I’ll bring you to him, then. Come on.” Kaito recognizes her voice as the one that had called him earlier.

“I—thanks, thank you,” he stammers, and glances at Hakuba, who’s staring at him like _he_ was the one that had been stabbed.

(It only occurs to Kaito later that Hakuba had never seen him cry before, in all the years they’ve known each other.)

However, right then, Kaito only says, “I’ll text you and Ran as soon as I find out how he’s doing,” before he leaves to follow the nurse.

As they make their way towards where Shinichi was placed, the nurse explains, “He was stabbed while he was in a close-quartered fight, and the knife had gone through his inner thigh, narrowly missing his femoral artery, which placed him at risk of severe blood loss. It still nicked the edge of his muscle, which means he’ll have some difficulty walking around for the next week or so. It’s a good thing your fiancé was rushed here.”

Kaito nods, and holds himself from inwardly swearing at Shinichi. The man had always been one to charge in with near reckless abandon, even if he’d calculated for all possible outcomes from any given situation.

Which meant he’d probably been prepared for this exact scenario, and Kaito’s very, very far from okay with that.

“Right, here we are,” she suddenly announces, snapping him out of his thoughts, and when she opens the door, Kaito’s faced with the sight of a pale, unmoving Shinichi in a hospital bed, ugly green sheets covering his slim frame.

One of his legs is clearly bandaged, but when Kaito moves closer to the bed he takes stock of all the scratches and bruises he can see on the detective, other relatively minor wounds he’d sustained during the fight, and he nearly breaks down sobbing right then.

“He’ll probably be asleep until tomorrow morning, and if he’s awake, he’s allowed visitors,” the nurse says, and Kaito must have responded to her, thanked her, since she leaves shortly after, but he can’t hear the words coming out of his mouth.

He’s too busy trying to track the way Shinichi’s chest rises and falls with every shallow breath he takes, because it’s taking everything to convince him that Shinichi’s _fine_ , he’s alive, he’s still here with Kaito—

And maybe it’s because he’s been losing sleep trying to come to terms with his feelings for Shinichi, or all the adrenaline from the past hour has suddenly just left him, but he finds himself dropping heavily into the chair beside the bed and gripping Shinichi’s hand in his, and lets his sobs finally break past his lips; shoulders shaking, breath stuttering and bringing Shinichi’s hand close to his mouth, revels in the warmth it emits in the wake of everything that’s just happened.

Kaito gathers himself enough to send a short text to Hakuba and Ran, reassures them that the detective’s alright and they can visit in the morning, before he goes back to counting every breath Shinichi makes.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing he knows, he’s waking up because there’s something squeezing his hand, and when he finally lifts his head up, Kaito opens his eyes to see Shinichi sitting up and grinning at him, backlit by the sunlight streaming through the window.

It’s the best fucking thing he’s ever seen.

“You asshole,” Kaito breathes. “Who told you that you could get stabbed?”

Shinichi frowns at him, and answers primly, “I hadn’t exactly planned to endure excruciating pain and steadily rising blood loss,” and of course Shinichi has to be snarky and dorky about the whole situation, and Kaito wonders why the fuck does that make him fall even more for this stupidly stubborn detective.

He laughs in response, but it’s strained and he can’t gather himself enough to put on a poker face.

“I’ve to say, this wasn’t the way I’d envisioned spending my night,” he says, trying to sound light-hearted, but his voice betrays him somewhere in the middle and then Shinichi’s thumb is stroking the back of Kaito’s hand.

“I thought only family would have been allowed here. Did you break in?” he asks curiously, and Kaito’s devastated that he hadn’t thought of that before he’d burst into his emotional breakdown in front of everyone.

He shakes his head, chuckling ruefully as the truth slips out of him. “I told them I was your fiancé and demanded to see you. I was… Rather distraught. It wasn’t a pretty sight.”

He has enough time to feel guilt wracking through his body when Shinichi looks at him with regret and apologizes. “Shit, I—well, I know I hadn’t actively meant to get shot, but I’m… I’m sorry for worrying you, Kaito. I’d never mean to do that to you.”

“At least this engagement thing was good for something, huh?” Kaito jokes half-heartedly, trying to find his ground in the midst of all the overwhelming emotions.

But then Shinichi grins at him, and says, “There’s no one else I’d rather get fake married to,” and somehow Kaito’s brain short circuits and he stands up to lean over, cups the other man’s cheek and—

Kisses Shinichi.

Shinichi presses back for a moment as he tilts his head, likely on instinct, after weeks of having to do so in front of everyone they know, before he immediately freezes. It’s not like any of their previous kisses they’d shared; there’s no audience, and Kaito’s lips are trembling against Shinichi’s, but it’s quick enough that when Kaito pulls back, the detective looks at him in confusion, his mouth slightly open and looking all kinds of inviting but Kaito’s mind is reeling because they weren’t—there was no fucking reason to kiss Shinichi.

The detective doesn’t get to say anything, though, because right then, the door to their room opens and Kaito takes the opportunity to smoothly take a step back and lets the morning shift nurse take a look at Shinichi, while he steps outside, where he proceeds to have a mini anxiety attack.

Because what the _fuck_.

Kaito had no excuse; if it were anyone else, he’d be able to fool them, make it seem like a follow up to his joke, or a prank, but Shinichi’s kind of famous for being an actual genius and he also has the added advantage of knowing Kaito too well. There’s no way he’d be able to lie to Shinichi successfully.

His thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of Ran, her father, and Sera, however, and then there’s a steady stream of visitors throughout the day; he tries his best to play the doting, worried fiancé and for the most part, it works. But Aoko drags him out while she’s visiting, and looks at him worriedly.

“Are you alright, Kaito?”

No, no he’s not.

“Well, my fiancé did just get stabbed last night,” Kaito shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, but Aoko shakes her head, frowning.

“No, I know, but, is that all there is to it? I—you look troubled, Kaito. Did something else happen?”

God, for Aoko to be observant now of all times just reeks of karma biting his fucking ass.

“No, everything’s fine, I just—I think I’m still a bit shaken, myself,” Kaito reluctantly answers, figuring he can slip away with a half-truth, at least. “I know it’s always a possibility, considering the line of work he’s in, but… Yeah, I just, wasn’t expecting it, knowing the person you love had gotten that injured.”

“… I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you refer to Shinichi in that way.”

“I—what?” Kaito’s head snaps up to see Aoko staring at him curiously. “I, well, of course I lo—love Shinichi—”

But Aoko starts to frown at him again, and fuck, he can’t—of all the people who might unravel this entire sham, he can’t have her be the one.

But she takes it one step further, and asks knowingly, “You’ve never said it to him, have you?”

And Kaito’s loud silence speaks for himself.

“Kaito…”

“Don’t, Aoko,” he says firmly, putting a hand up, aware that he's told her one of his biggest secrets at this point. “This isn’t—he just got stabbed last night, and there was a possibility that he could have bled to death and I’m still,” his breath shudders as he rubs a hand against his face, shaking his head. “It’s fine. He’s alive, hopefully no lasting consequences, and that’s all that matters.”

Aoko looks away at that, and quietly replies, “I hope you know what you’re doing, Kaito.”

He doesn’t, but he merely nods, and then they head back inside, and it’s all Kaito can do to keep up his poker face for the remainder of visiting hours.

And somehow, Shinichi even manages to get the hospital staff to release him that evening, provided he gets “Plenty of rest, and no chasing after criminals for at least a month, Mr. Kudou.” Kaito gets distracted by the fact that he gets to wheel Shinichi out of the hospital and cracks some jokes about riding him that gets the detective absolutely red and flustered, and the accompanying nurse laughing at them.

He keeps up the façade long enough for them to get a taxi and the ride home feels vastly different than last night’s panicked state, but somehow Kaito doesn’t feel calm in the very least.

When they finally reach home, Kaito walks forward first to unlock the door, carrying Shinichi’s things, which he’d had to wrestle from the detective earlier, who was given crutches, since he’s not supposed to put weight on his injured leg just yet.

(“You are practically still an invalid, and you’re not supposed to do anything strenuous.”

“Carrying a bag of my clothes is hardly taxing, Kaito—”

“No, just—just this once, Shinichi. Let me help.”)

Aside from the bag, Shinichi hasn’t said one word to him as soon as they had left the hospital.

That changes when they enter their house and Kaito tries to talk about his meds and caring for his wound, because Shinichi grabs his shoulder from behind and whirls him around firmly, looking ridiculous in his baggy pajamas, hair still fluffed up and wearing a serious expression as he leans heavily on one crutch, the other leaning precariously against his side.

“Kaito, this morning, what was that all about?”

When Kaito doesn’t immediately respond, the hand on his shoulder tightens, as Shinichi insists, “The kiss. Why did you do it? There was… No one around. Was that—a joke?”

When Kaito opens his mouth to answer, he catches sight of the bags underneath Shinichi’s eyes, the way his hand is trembling just the slightest bit, and he can’t—

He can’t do this right now.

“When you’re better, okay?” Kaito murmurs, and shakes his head when Shinichi narrows his eyes in clear disagreement. “There’s, we have time, later. You need to rest and get better first. Please.”

A beat passes, and the grip on Kaito’s shoulder slackens, before Shinichi takes his other crutch and steps back, sighing. “You’re so fucking lucky I’m about to drop dead on my feet right now.”

 _How does he do it_? Kaito wonders, even as he finds himself chuckling at the absurdity of the entire situation. How does Shinichi make everything seem so… Seamless? Since when was it so easy to fall in love with him?

“We can’t have you almost dying again within the span of twenty-four hours. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to explain that to Ran.”

“If you catch her on a bad day, she’ll probably just ask why you didn’t finish the job.”

***

Three days pass, with Kaito torn between avoiding Shinichi and making sure the detective had everything he needed to make a full, speedy recovery. When he’s not taking care of the other man, giving his medications according to schedule and getting reassured by Shinichi that he’s “quite capable of changing my dressings”, Kaito’s holed up in his workshop, distracted beyond belief and unable to get anything done.

On the fourth morning, Kaito wakes up the sound of a crash downstairs.

It takes him a second to process that there’s only one other person that could have made the noise, and then he’s out of his bed and nearly sprinting down the stairs.

He finds Shinichi in the kitchen holding a spatula and leaning heavily against the counter, holding on to one of his crutches. One of the dining chairs is toppled over, along with the other crutch, which must have made the noise, and when Kaito comes closer, he notices the remnants of a couple of eggs on the floor.

“The hell?”

Shinichi waves the spatula at him, and then replies through gritted teeth, “I may have overestimated how much strength I had in my leg.”

“You—damn it, Shinichi, why are you still standing then?” Kaito exhales, running a hand through his hair as he looks for the broom and a rag. He hears Shinichi dragging himself over to a chair and putting the one that had fallen over back upright again. The mess gets cleaned up soon enough, and when he turns back around Shinichi’s slumped over in his seat, crutches placed on the floor, watching Kaito as the latter starts to make coffee for the two of them.

He has a terrible feeling Shinichi’s done waiting for him to get his head out of his ass, and he quickly reaches into his pocket to get out the key to his backup plan, if the whole situation blows up in his face.

They don’t talk while the coffee machine prepares their drinks, and when Kaito hands over Shinichi’s mug to him he goes back to lean against the counter, and steels himself for whatever Shinichi has prepared for him.

The detective allows himself a few long gulps of the coffee, while Kaito merely sips his, watching the other man carefully.

Finally, Shinichi places his mug down, and announces, “Maybe we should hold off the wedding.”

… That’s not where Kaito was expecting it to go.

He keeps silent, while Shinichi continues to speak, looking at his drink solemnly. “I don’t—it’s not that I don’t want to carry on with it, but I’m not sure if our emotions are in the right place for now, especially with the chaos the last few days. And considering how long we’ve had to carry out this lie, it’s… Relatively easy to slip into the act by accident.”

“I mean, it was just supposed to be an easy way to get everyone off our backs about the dating and settling down shit, right?”

“… Right,” Kaito croaks out, and there’s an ache in his chest that he’s not willing to identify at all, because when Shinichi looks up at him, lips curled up at the edge, Kaito finds that he doesn’t recognize Shinichi’s smile at all.

“Remember what we’d agreed on, when we started this whole thing?”

Kaito feels a stone drop in his stomach when he recalls their first conversation about this entire scheme: No lying to each other. No telling anyone about this.

No falling in love with each other.

And Kaito is abruptly made aware of the fact that for all intent and purpose, he’s pretty much broken all three rules.

“Yes, but didn’t stop me from falling in love with you, you idiot,” gets stuck in his throat as Kaito watches the other man helplessly, because he’s not sure if he’s ready to face Shinichi’s rejection right now.

And then Shinichi starts to speak again, and Kaito doesn’t understand the words that are coming out of his mouth because they’re so far beyond the realm of his reality and all he wants to do is shove those words back down Shinichi’s throat, but he’s just standing there, taking it all in because he’s—

A fucking coward, he realizes, as Shinichi tells him resolutely, “I think we just need some space, because it’s not like you—you have feelings for me in that way, Kaito,” and before Kaito even manages to say anything, he’s already been _rejected_ , just like that.

Shinichi takes a longer swig of his coffee, and then he stands up and hobbles without his crutches towards Kaito, who’s still frozen to the spot.

“I’ve asked Ran to—to pick me up. I didn’t, I mean, this was my idea and this place is your home too, so. I’ll just tell her that everything feels a bit too… Fast-paced and I need a breather. Is that… Okay, Kaito?”

Somehow, in the midst of his heart shattering and his breathing beginning to grow shallow from how tight his chest suddenly feels, Kaito finally musters up the last of his strength to throw on a smile, one that shows off his teeth and doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I don’t really have much to say to that, do I?”

“Kaito—”

Kaito shakes his head, and places both of his hands on Shinichi’s shoulders, still grinning as he begins an internal countdown in his mind, watching for any sign of weakness in Shinichi’s body, “I think it’s best if you stay here instead, detective. I’ll let Ran know the plan and I can… Gather my emotions, make sure we’re still on the right track, like you said. I don’t want you to exhaust yourself again, and you’re not feeling very well right now, are you?”

Shinichi blinks at him, frowning. “What do you—” Suddenly, the detective’s legs seem to crumple beneath him, and it’s only because of Kaito’s reflexes that he’s able to catch the other man before he falls flat on his face; as it is, Kaito brings him down carefully, until the detective is slumped over him instead, his eyes narrowed in barely repressed rage, even as his head starts to loll to the side, like a ragdoll.

“You—fuck, you asshole—” Shinichi manages to slur out, and then his head drops forward, and he’s no longer conscious.

Kaito takes one long look at the man he’s in love with, the man he’d just drugged because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to come out of the confrontation with his thoughts and emotions intact, and exhales deeply.

“God, I’m gonna be so dead when he wakes up.”

***  

Kaito takes solace at the last place he thought he’d ever run to if he and Shinichi were to ever part ways.

“I hope you don’t plan to mope at my house for the rest of your days, Kaito, or I’ll have to make sure they’ll be cut short.”

Kaito doesn’t even bother getting up from the couch when he replies sardonically, “Aren’t you grateful that I’m fulfilling your sixteen-year-old fantasies right now?”

He gets a scratch on his cheek from a fucking raven for that, which he probably deserved, to be honest.

He definitely deserves a hell lot worse, especially after what he’d done to Shinichi during the last time they saw each other.

“My sixteen-year-old-self had no intention of letting a lovesick Kuroba Kaito waste his life on my goddamn couch,” Akako snorts as she coos at her raven, who looks extremely proud as fuck that he’d managed to almost gouge out Kaito’s eye.

Kaito can’t even refute that with a response, so he merely groans and curls himself up into a ball. He brings his left hand up to his face, and absently fiddles with his ring. As much as he should probably remove it, he just _can’t_.

Not yet, at least.

A moment later, the couch dips on the other end and he feels Akako’s raven pecking at his exposed ankle. “Fuck, what now, Akako?”

He lifts his head just enough to meet her eyes, and figures he probably shouldn’t push her too far; she’d agreed to let him stay while he tries to sort things out, but for the most part she’d just left him alone while she went about doing her… Witchy stuff. This is the first that she’s actively confronted him about his decision to basically run away after drugging his fake fiancé.

Who probably isn’t going to be his fiancé, or even a friend in any form after he finds Kaito and murders him, before getting rid of his body. He’s absolutely confident that Shinichi would be able to get away with it too and why the fuck does that thought even make him smile?

“You’re thinking about him again.”

“Get your witch telepathy shit out of my head, Akako.”

She actually cackles at that, and leans back against the couch, glancing at him in pure amusement. “Oh, _Kaito_. I didn’t need my powers to know any of that. Your poker face that you so pride yourself upon was rendered useless the moment you arrived at my house a week ago and asked for a ‘big favour’,” Akako smiles, as she pets the raven perched on her shoulder.

“Ugh, and I said I’ll pay you back, right?” Kaito replies, frowning at her.

“Mmm, that you did,” she nods, and then, “I’d like to collect on that favour right now, if you don’t mind.”

“… Can’t it be after I have my third meltdown of the day?”

But somehow he finds himself walking to the nearby convenience store to pick up some milk of all things, which isn’t actually all that near, since Akako lives on the outskirts of town and her house is basically the reincarnation of Dracula’s mansion, which means it takes him nearly half an hour just to reach the nearest 7-11.

Just as he bends down to pick some no-name brand, full cream milk, contrary to Akako’s instructions, he hears a voice that chills him to the core.

“It really _is_ you.”

When he turns around, Kaito yelps as he’s being dragged out of the store, milk forgotten while he stares at Shinichi’s back.

“What the—Shinichi, what the hell?”

The detective doesn’t answer, even when they’re already past the store and walking away, and then Kaito remembers the man was just discharged less than two weeks ago, which means his strength shouldn’t actually be all there just yet. So he gathers himself and immediately plants his feet firmly on the walkway, causing Shinichi to stumble back while still holding on to him, nearly making them both crash onto the ground.

“Shinichi—hey, are you, you alright there?”

Kaito watches as the other man pushes against him to stand upright, wobbling slightly, and his gaze immediately falls on Shinichi’s injured leg. “You—you shouldn’t be running around like that just yet, you’re supposed to be _resting_ —”

His words get cut short by a sudden stinging pain in his jaw, his head snapping back and then he realizes:

Shinichi’s just punched him in the face.

“… I deserved that,” Kaito says lightly, as he reaches up to touch his aching jaw. “Probably more than just a punch, to be honest.”

But Shinichi doesn’t respond to that, and when Kaito looks more closely, Shinichi’s entire body is trembling, his face turned away and this—

This is probably what Akako had really meant, when she mentioned cashing in the favour.

He chews the inside of his cheek, and wonders if he should thank Akako, or choke her fucking raven to death for this.

“Let’s talk at home, okay?”

***

Shinichi hasn’t said a word since they left Akako’s neighbourhood.

Kaito takes a quick look around the place when he enters the living room, Shinichi immediately collapsing down on the far end of the couch, and figures that Ran did an excellent job of looking after both Shinichi and the house. He resolves to buy her and Sera tickets to a getaway cruise, if he doesn’t get killed by Shinichi first.

Who doesn’t seem like he’s going to start talking any time soon, so Kaito swallows, takes a seat on the other end, and starts to speak, gaze fixed in front of him, because he sure as hell doesn’t deserve to look at Shinichi right now.

“I’m… Sorry, for drugging you. I wasn’t, I was trying to deal with my own shit, and I just needed some space to think but that probably could have gone better.” He pauses for a moment, and pastes a small smile on his face, the hardest he’s ever had to lift his lips in Shinichi’s presence and continues talking. “I agree with what you said last time. Let’s call off this wedding. It’s about time we stop lying to everyone, and we can, we can still get refunds and shit.”

“I’m just sorry I dragged you into all of this, Shinichi. You’re… you’re probably pretty fucking pissed at me, especially with the whole, uh, drugging your coffee thing, so I—it’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me for a while.”

“Why are you doing that?”

_Huh?_

Kaito turns his head to look at Shinichi, who’s staring at him with so much devastation in his expression that it causes him to startle, and before he can even think, his hand is already reaching out to the other man. “What—Shinichi?”

“I’m angry that you put a fucking sedative in my drink, but I’m more _pissed_ that you’ve been using your poker face on me ever since I got discharged from the hospital that day.” Shinichi’s shoulders are shaking, but he’s staring at Kaito resolutely, lips downturned and rage and sorrow emitting from every part of his body.

“I thought… I thought we were _past_ that, Kaito. I—I thought I’d just leave you alone for a day, and then you’d let me in, like you usually do, or you’d fight back if I pushed you, because that’s what always happens with us, but you, you just closed off and you wouldn’t _talk_ , and—”

There’s a tear falling down Shinichi’s cheek, and Kaito continues to watch, transfixed, as Shinichi shudders, his breath stuttering as his voice breaks when he adds, “I thought I’d done something, that’s why I wanted to give you some more space, in the first place, but I… I guess I shouldn’t have assumed. I just wish you’d tell me what’s wrong with you, Kaito.”

How is it possible to hurt this much to see the man he loves, this obstinate, proud, selfless man slowly crashing into pieces in front of him?

“I’m in love with you,” Kaito blurts out, the words no longer caught in his throat and Shinichi’s eyes narrow at him, angry.

“This isn’t the time for jokes, Kaito, I’m—fuck, I’m being serious here.”

“And so am I,” Kaito sighs, and he cautiously gets up, slowly moving closer towards Shinichi and steeling himself in case Shinichi feels like hitting him again. He gradually relaxes when the detective only looks at him in disbelief.

“I’m terribly in love with you,” Kaito continues, fear causing his vision to blur, his own pulse ringing loudly in his ears as he finally confesses to the man he’s absolutely head over heels for. “I have been, for a while now. Maybe before this whole goddamn sham even started. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but I didn’t want to tie you down to a dishonest relationship, more dishonest that it already is.”

“But how do you even _know_?” Shinichi insists, and Kaito finds his first genuine smile for the other man in the span of nearly two weeks.

“When the thought of you no longer next to me fills me with as much dread, as walking down the aisle to see you waiting for me would give me all the joy I could ever imagine,” he answers sincerely, and stares as Shinichi closes his eyes, and then—

“You _idiot_. You could have just said all of that, instead of drugging me like a common thief.”

“I was… Afraid, and you wouldn’t listen. I wasn’t prepared to be rejected just like that,” Kaito shrugs.

The detective opens his eyes and Kaito’s struck by the sudden desperation in them when Shinichi asks quietly, “Then, the kiss in the hospital. Was that real?”

Kaito smiles, and replies with an ease that doesn’t seem real at all. “I think all the kisses from literally the past two months have been real. I was just too dumb and slow to realize it, unfortunately.”

“Of course you are.”

“Hey, rude—”

“Explains why you never saw that I was in love with you, too.”

“Wait, what?!”

This time, Shinichi shifts forward, and then he takes Kaito’s hand in his own; there’s a sudden tightness in his chest when he abruptly realizes that Shinichi’s still wearing the engagement ring Kaito had given him.

“Not in the way they’d describe it in movies and books, with the fireworks, and being swept off of your feet,” Shinichi starts softly, stroking Kaito’s own ring, his gaze fixed downwards as he continues to speak. “I loved you when I realized I started to decipher your tricks not because it was intellectually satisfying for me, but because you always grinned so widely whenever I got one of your tricks right,” and Kaito remembers how Shinichi had come up with that reason so quickly all those months ago, when they’d still been figuring out the aspects of their story—he’d just thought Shinichi was being clever, but—

He hadn’t pegged for Shinichi to actually be telling the truth.

“Back in Vegas, that was probably around the time I started to figure it out, especially when—I had that, that nightmare, remember?” Kaito nods, swallowing at the memory. That was a particularly terrible one.

“But I didn’t—having you back here with me was already enough and then the whole fake engagement thing started, and,” Shinichi chuckles, stroking Kaito’s knuckles, “It was—fine. I’m used to, to pining, had more than enough practice for it, if I’m honest. But when I got stabbed, that was when I couldn’t deny it anymore, that’s why I thought it was for the best, if we held it off until I could compose myself again.”

“Would you have told me, then?”

Kaito watches Shinichi, waits until the other man sighs, and shrugs.

“Most likely. I didn’t—I tried not to think about my own feelings for you, but it was getting incredibly difficult, and now I’m not sure if I would have been able to walk down that aisle knowing I was deceiving you.”

And then he looks back up at Kaito, and shit, no one else smiles as prettily as Shinichi does, Kaito thinks, as the detective squeezes his hand.

“But I’m glad that my deductions about your own feelings for me were apparently… Wrong.”

“First time for everything, right?” Kaito smirks as he leans forward, and Shinichi rolls his eyes at him, unwavering as Kaito crashes right into his personal space, his hands cradling Shinichi’s cheeks carefully. He takes a moment to stroke the edge of Shinichi’s jaw, his thumb trailing the lightest touch until he’s tracing Shinichi’s bottom lip and Kaito hasn’t kissed him yet but he’s already completely intoxicated, and the feeling skyrockets when Shinichi opens his mouth slightly, flicking his tongue teasingly against Kaito’s thumb.

And then Shinichi’s hands wrap themselves around Kaito’s back as he presses in even closer, until Kaito can see his long lashes flutter against his skin, their lips barely brushing as he murmurs teasingly, “It’s been a while, Kaito—think you need to brush up on your skills,” and that eventually pushes him to close the distance between them.

Kaito’s helpless to stop the groan from spilling out of him when he _finally_ kisses Shinichi, firm and unrelenting as he lets go of his restraint, desperate to become familiar with the way Shinichi tastes.

Everything they’d done has been chaste up to this point in comparison, and Kaito finds that it’s no longer enough for him because Shinichi’s hands aren’t stationary anymore, they’re roaming up Kaito’s back and Shinichi shifts and there’s so little space left between them but Kaito wants _more_.

The kiss turns hungry in no time, Kaito’s hands running over Shinichi’s shirt, trailing down, down until his fingers slip underneath, and he presses his hands boldly against Shinichi’s stomach, swallowing the incredibly sinful moan Shinichi lets out against his mouth, tongues sliding against each other as their breathing grows shallower.

Kaito breaks away first, not that he’d wanted to, but because there’s no longer breath in his lungs, thanks to Shinichi; he’s slightly embarrassed by how out of breath he already is, but that thought is immediately wiped away when Shinichi decides he’s not done with Kaito just yet, and latches onto the side of his neck, his clever, clever mouth ensuring Kaito’s mind ultimately turning into mush at this point.

“Fuck—god, _Shinichi_.”

The detective stops sucking what would probably turn out into a massively obvious hickey on his neck, and sighs incoherently against his skin, “Kaito, you—can we, more?”

Kaito’s eyes widen in confusion at that, and he gently grips Shinichi’s chin to lift his face and when Kaito meets his gaze, he doesn’t quite know how he holds himself back from instantly kissing Shinichi senseless.

There’s no mistaking the lust and affection in Shinichi’s gaze as he looks up at Kaito, his pretty blue eyes dark with desire; he’s panting slightly, his pink mouth open and lips wet and Kaito nearly has an aneurysm when Shinichi’s tongue swipes over his lips, making them look even slicker.

“You, how are you _real_?” Kaito exhales, and then Shinichi smirks up at him and that’s it, he’s dead, he has to be because this can’t be real—

Kudou Shinichi is in his arms, fuck, Kaito’s other hand is still holding onto the other man’s waist and he can feel every shaky breath Shinichi takes and _this_ , this must be the definition of heaven. He’s not willing to accept anything else, no fucking thank you.

“I could say the same for you,” Shinichi replies, and he places a hand on Kaito’s cheek, and Kaito almost drowns in the amount of adoration Shinichi so obviously holds for him. “I—you don’t have to say yes, of course, but if you’d like, could we…?”

“Hmm?” Kaito hums, and turns his head to place a quick kiss against Shinichi’s palm. God, he gets to fucking do that now and it’s making it difficult for him to focus, especially when it gets Shinichi all pink like that.

“Can we do more than just kiss?” Shinichi says at last, shy but determined, and Kaito won’t lie; he’s looking forward to see how far down that flush goes.

“What do you want, baby?” He asks with a grin that only grows wider when Shinichi shivers at the pet name, his eyes glazed. He’s going to have to remember that one. “Just more touching, or—” His hands move around until they slowly, carefully slide down, giving the other man time to stop him, until he’s cupping Shinichi’s ass, toned and curved; he can’t resist giving it a little squeeze and delights in the gasp the detective lets slip.

And then Shinichi straightens up and clambers over him and it’s all Kaito can do to steady him until he’s sat right in Kaito’s lap and fuck, he’s going to lose his goddamn mind if Shinichi keeps shifting like that. Belatedly, he realises it’s revenge for the ass squeezing, and when he narrows his eyes up at the detective, the other man only smiles down at him in faux innocence.

It gets replaced with something a little more hesitant, but Shinichi continues to look at him anyway. “More. Everything, if you’re—um, inclined to that. But if not, we can always just continue what we were doing?”

Kudou Shinichi is sitting on top of his dick, hair sexily tousled and asking if they can have sex.

What the hell did Kaito do to deserve this man?

“We can totally do that,” Kaito replies quickly, his hands sliding up Shinichi’s back under his shirt, relishing in the feel of hot, bare skin under his palms. “But let me kiss you some more first?” He grins as Shinichi shudders above him. “It’s been hell trying to hold myself back for at least the past month.”

“Try the past half a year,” Shinichi bites back, but Kaito doesn’t get a chance to reply, because Shinichi swoops down and captures his lips again, deft fingers sliding into Kaito’s hair, messing it up beyond any hope of taming it, probably, but Kaito is completely alright with that if it means Shinichi will continue to roll his hips just like _that_ as they sloppily makeout for the next few minutes.

They finally detach themselves and not a minute too soon, because Shinichi’s starting to make these little, turned on noises that are hell on Kaito’s sanity. “Bedroom?” He gasps, hands tightening around Shinichi’s waist as the detective grinds down, head thrown back in a stifled moan, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

“Mine’s closer,” Shinichi replies with a gasp, and then he climbs off of Kaito, but they’re suddenly reminded of Shinichi’s still healing leg when it nearly gives out under him; it’s only because Kaito gets up quick enough to catch Shinichi before he falls that Shinichi doesn’t crumple into a heap.

“Need a little help there, babe?” Kaito asks, and gets a sharp, bony finger in his side for his remark.

Somehow they make their way upstairs without any major incident, and when Kaito finally steps into Shinichi’s bedroom he takes the opportunity to pin the other man against his door, their bodies pressed tightly against each other. Fuck, he’s so drunk on Shinichi’s sounds and scent and how wrecked he looks when Kaito steps back, his leg between Shinichi’s and slowly grinding against the other man’s visible hard on, his hands loosely pinning the detective’s wrists above his head.

“Shit, _shit_ , Kaito, I can’t—” Shinichi groans, low and guttural and fanning the flames in the pit of Kaito’s stomach. Kaito lets go of him, and then shifts his leg so that his thigh is completely pressed against Shinichi’s cock and he’s rewarded with a wordless moan.

As much as he loathes the thought of letting go of Shinichi, Kaito releases his hands and moves backwards, his gaze raking Shinichi’s disheveled look.

(God, it’s an amazing look on him.)

But Shinichi said he’d wanted more, and Kaito doesn’t really care about positions at this point because all that matters right now is having Shinichi close to him for the next foreseeable future. And if their makeout session is any inclination, he has a feeling either way it’d probably be a religious experience, one he can’t wait to have.

“If—if you still want to, do you wanna top or bottom? I don’t have any preference,” Kaito says bluntly.

Shinichi tilts his head, his breathing still visibly harsh, and replies, equally as blunt: “I’d like your dick in me, at least for this time,” and all the blood leaves Kaito’s brain.

“Right,” he swallows, shaking his head at Shinichi’s smirk. “I could deal with that.”

The detective walks forward to bridge the distance, and presses a quick kiss against Kaito’s mouth, says quietly, “Give me a few minutes?” And disappears into the adjoining bathroom at Kaito’s nod.

Fuck, Kaito’s so fucked.

(And he’s not even the one being fucked this time.)

He takes the opportunity to fumble with his own clothes, swearing under his breath at his useless, shaky fingers, unbefitting of a magician, and by the time he manages to get his jeans off, he’s left in his underwear and that’s the moment the door to the bathroom opens, revealing Shinichi in merely a towel, his entire upper body beautifully flushed as he stares blatantly at Kaito, mouth open.

Kaito won’t lie; it’s totally an ego booster to have a man as gorgeous as Shinichi eye fucking him in such a shameless manner.

But he’s been battling an erection for the past twenty minutes and he’s impatient as hell because Shinichi is pretty much naked except for a small towel, and he needs to get his hands on the other man right the fuck now. So he walks up to Shinichi and takes his hand, bringing him to the bed, and Kaito carefully directs him to sit down on the bed, before he kneels between his legs and his hands find the edge of the towel, obviously tented.

“May I?” He asks, and perhaps the constant questions might be a little annoying, but he’s not willing to mess this up more than he already had, and it feels him with a dark sort of joy to hear Shinichi so eager to have Kaito touch him this way.

Shinichi nods, and then he’s naked except for his bandaged thigh and Kaito can’t help but bring his hand to touch Shinichi’s cock, a darker pink than the rest of him, long and already drooling a bit of precum. As Kaito strokes his erection slowly from the base to the tip, Shinichi gasps, his stomach clenching, legs tensed and that’s it—

Kaito needs _more_.

And before Shinichi could recover from Kaito’s touch, Kaito brings his mouth closer and gently sucks at the head, lips wrapped around the tip and his hands on Shinichi’s waist, holding him down when Shinichi cries out and his hips automatically jerk up. Shinichi tastes a bit like soap, which makes sense, since he’d just cleaned himself in the bathroom, but it makes Kaito want to bring more of him into his mouth just to be able to get to how Shinichi really tastes like.

He’s vaguely aware of Shinichi’s gasping and writhing above him; it’s been… A while, and it’s all Kaito can do to keep his teeth tucked in as he slowly bobs his head up and down, tongue flicking against Shinichi as he gradually takes in more, and more, until he manages to get to the base, before he has to pull off, his breathing heavy and his jaw beginning to get sore, Shinichi’s wet dick slapping back against his stomach.

When he looks back up, he’s greeted with the sight of Shinichi completely gone in pleasure; the man is trembling slightly, hands gripping the sheets under him and when Kaito straightens his body, he sees Shinichi panting, hair unruly and eyes shut tight.

They fly open when Kaito starts to touch his thighs, strong and powerful, and then Shinichi croaks out, “Fi—fingers, in me, Kaito, please,” and Kaito’s convinced Shinichi’s out to kill him before the day is even over.

He leans forward, cups Shinichi’s cheek and takes the chance to kiss him and he probably doesn’t taste all that great from sucking Shinichi’s cock but the other man thrusts his tongue inside Kaito’s mouth, desperate to devour and Kaito gives as good as he gets, a hand gripping Shinichi’s jaw and swallowing his muffled gasps.

“Lube and condom?” He grits out after pulling back, and then Shinichi shifts up the bed, until he’s able to reach his bedside table and hands him a bottle and a packet, before he lifts his knees, head turned away as he exposes himself to Kaito, who doesn’t know where to look at first with Shinichi’s gorgeous body all on display before him.

“I—I’d turn around on my front, since that’s usually easier but I’m not sure if my leg can support me for long,” Shinichi explains, embarrassment and regret tinged in his tone and nope, that’s not what Kaito wants to hear.

So he shakes his head, and sweeps his hands up Shinichi’s thighs, and pushes them further apart, until there’s absolutely nothing to hide, and says, “Just tell me if you’re not comfortable,” before he opens the bottle and pours some lube onto his fingers, and rubs them right against Shinichi’s hole, delighting in the way the other man’s body pressing back against him.

“Fuck, Kaito, I need—don’t tease, please,” Shinichi’s _pleading_ , fuck, and Kaito doesn’t know how long he can last with that ringing in his head, so he slowly pushes in his middle finger, the slide remarkably easy, watching Shinichi for any sign of discomfort, his mouth agape when he realises Shinichi must have done a bit of preparation in the bathroom.

“Okay?” Kaito asks, rubbing around and gets an enthusiastic nod.

“A—another,” Shinichi requests, and Kaito slides out his finger, drizzles a bit more lube and gradually pushes in two; he bites his lip as he watches Shinichi’s rim accommodate his fingers, the other man’s mouth dropping open as Kaito drags his fingers against Shinichi’s hot walls, pulling them out before pushing his fingers back in, this time up to his third knuckles, and Shinichi’s cock twitches.

“I—nearly there—fuck, Kaito,” Shinichi whines, and then his legs start to shake as Kaito crooks his fingers, looking for that spot—

“Ah! Th—oh god, _there_ —”

“Right here?” Kaito presses harder against the spot that had Shinichi trembling, and the detective chokes, his back bowed in a curve before he falls back down and then he’s whimpering, as Kaito works on his prostate, his hips pushing back against Kaito’s fingers.

“One—one more finger, and then you,” Shinichi gasps out, and Kaito nods, his mouth incredibly dry, transfixed by the sight of Shinichi beginning to fall apart under him.

“Sure, sweetheart,” he manages to reply, and _that_ gets Shinichi to whimper louder, and there’s not much resistance now when Kaito pushes in with three fingers, Shinichi’s body relaxed enough to receive them. He starts to scissor his fingers, and it’s only when he bends down to suck a kiss into Shinichi’s thigh, right above the edge of his bandage that Shinichi grasps his hair firmly and tells him throatily, “Get your damn pants off and—in me, now, Kaito,” that he pulls his fingers out.

It takes a bit more fumbling for Kaito to take off his underwear and slide the condom on, and in the meantime Shinichi grabs a nearby pillow to place under his hips and then—

Kaito holds up Shinichi’s uninjured leg while he guides his dick to rub against Shinichi’s hole, unable to resist teasing him one last time; it gets him another one of Shinichi’s delicious groans, as well as Shinichi pushing down in retaliation and Kaito nearly crumbles at the tightness enveloping the head of his cock.

He rides the momentum and carefully eases himself inside of Shinichi’s tight heat, until he’s buried to the hilt and stills himself as he waits for Shinichi to adjust to him.

“You alright?” Kaito manages to get out, and he looks up to see Shinichi staring at him, smiling and then his hand reaches up to grip Kaito’s shoulder, squeezing, before he replies with a dry “Never better, unless you’d like to prove that by actually moving,” and he never thought sex could be hot _and_ fun, but leave it to Kudou Shinichi to prove him wrong on all accounts.

Instead of answering him, Kaito pulls out, until only the tip of his cock is inside Shinichi, before thrusting in firmly, a little faster than before and that gets Shinichi to throw his head back, a stifled moan escaping his lips, bitten to the point of distraction and that won’t do at all—he wants to hear all the sounds Shinichi makes when he’s in the throes of pleasure, especially right here beneath Kaito.

He builds up a rhythm, slow and deep, trying his best to not totally drown in how incredible Shinichi feels around him; the sight of Shinichi unable to hold back his moans as he scrambles at the sheets and Kaito’s arms makes Kaito move his hips just a little bit faster, and he drops down to kiss Shinichi’s open, gasping mouth, trying to make sure that his stomach brushes against Shinichi’s cock.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Kaito murmurs, delivering a particularly brutal thrust as he asks, “Feel good, baby?” and Shinichi lets out his loudest whine yet, as he brings his legs to wrap around Kaito, Shinichi’s hands clutching Kaito’s back as he gasps a mixture of _yes_ and _so good fuck_ and _Kaito_.

Kaito doesn’t know how he’s held on for this long, when Shinichi looks like sin personified underneath him, skin sweaty and flushed pink, tear-filled blue eyes hazy with arousal, wet cheeks streaked with tears but he nearly loses it when he shifts his hips and starts aiming for that spot from earlier that had made Shinichi writhe like mad on his fingers, and Shinichi tightens even more around him, causing him to groan aloud as his arms tremble, trying his goddamn best to keep moving.

“Th—there, shit, _please_ Kaito, _don’t stop_ ,” and the thought that Kaito’s managed to reduce the great detective to this state of begging desperation causes him to crash his mouth against Shinichi’s again, even as he speeds up his thrusts, their sloppy kissing unable to shut Shinichi up from continuing to whine helplessly.

“Touch yourself,” Kaito urges against Shinichi’s lips, feeling the tell-tale sign of his toes curling and his orgasm creeping up on him. “Come on baby, wanna—wanna see you come, Shinichi, _come on_ —”

He faintly registers the feeling of Shinichi’s hand sliding between their bodies, and three, four pulls later Shinichi’s sobbing, “I—Kaito, gonna, oh, oh—gonna co— _Kaito_ —” and comes against both of their stomachs, wet and messy, clamping up around Kaito.

It’s what breaks him at last and Kaito comes as well with a moan, his vision going white for a long second as he buries his dick deep in Shinichi one last time, feeling the other man shudder under him.

When Kaito opens his eyes again he’s greeted with a breathless Shinichi, chest heaving and the evidence of his own orgasm clear in white strokes across his stomach and abdomen, arm over his face.

It’s the sexiest thing he’s ever fucking seen.

“Thanks,” Shinichi remarks, his voice absolutely wrecked, and Kaito can’t even find an ounce of shame that his brain-to-mouth filter has apparently been destroyed, thanks to sex with Shinichi. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Kaito lets out a laugh at that, and he’s reminded that he’s still got his cock inside Shinichi when the detective gasps and tightens slightly around him, causing him to choke out a groan. He tries his best to pull out without causing too much discomfort to the other man, and clumsily ties off the condom, putting it aside for the time being.

When he turns to look back at Shinichi, the detective’s already watching him, his expression unbelievably fond. It makes Kaito bend down to kiss him, savouring the slow and sweet caress of their lips.

“You feeling okay? Your leg’s not hurting?” Kaito asks concernedly when he pulls away, and Shinichi sighs, exasperated.

“I’m far from being completely incompetent, Kaito,” he answers in a huff, but adds quietly, “I’m okay. More than, honestly,” and Kaito’s aware how stupidly big his grin gets, but it doesn’t matter because Shinichi’s smiling back just as widely too.

“Right, time to clean up, yeah?”

“As soon as I regain feeling in my legs.”

“What happened to not being ‘incompetent’—ack, Shinichi!” Kaito squawks as Shinichi knees him in the side, with his bandaged up leg, no less. Somehow, they manage to get up and make their way to Shinichi’s bathroom, conveniently large enough for two grown men to take a quick shower.

He grabs the chance to touch Shinichi everywhere, not even actively trying to rile him up, but at one point Shinichi only grabs his wrist and groans, “I’m about to fall asleep where I’m standing, so you’d better stop that,” and Kaito makes a mental note to find out how sensitive Shinichi is next time.

Shit, he gets a _next time_ , and then Kaito’s the one trying to will away his impending arousal at that thought.

They end up stumbling back into bed, naked and warm from each other’s heat, and Kaito likes to think it’s thanks to the cuddling practices on the couch all those weeks ago that their bodies comfortably meld against the other, limbs tangled and Kaito’s head resting against Shinichi’s chest.

“Love you,” Kaito thinks sleepily, but he feels Shinichi pressing a soft kiss against his hair, and he knows there’s no use trying to hide his thoughts when Shinichi seems to pull them out of him easily enough.

“Love you too, Kaito,” he hears, and he falls asleep contented for the first time in too long, lulled to rest by the rise and fall of Shinichi’s chest under his cheek and Shinichi’s arm around his back.

***

A few days later, they take a photo at Shinichi’s favourite café, captions it with “First real date, happy early April Fool’s everyone” and it causes everyone they know and love to yell at them through incessant text messages, enraged voicemails and it’s only thanks to Kaito’s traps around their house that no one actually manages to bring pitchforks right to their door.

Their parents hadn’t taken the news like they’d expected; Yukiko had hounded Yusaku to write a novel based on their story (“I’ll stick to murder mysteries, dear, but that’s a wonderful thought nonetheless”) and Chikage only sighs about true love and her own experience of falling in love with Toichi all those years ago. Kaito figures she deserves one uninterrupted session of gushing considering that he’d been lying to her for months about his own relationship.

And perhaps it might seem too soon to everyone, but Kaito proposes to Shinichi for real, at the tail end of summer one night after dinner, right before he leaves for his world tour once again, and this time, their closest friends are around to record the special occasion.

He takes out the rings from nearly half a year ago, rings they’d kept in Shinichi’s bedside table (his too, at this point now) for this very day and when Shinichi grins down at him kneeling on the floor of their living room, Kaito can’t help but feel that Shinichi’s wordless nod and blue eyes blinking back tears is a better sight than his biggest miraculous tricks.

Kaito stands up, and slides on the ring onto Shinichi’s finger, before looking at him, unable to hold back his own smile.

“I finally caught you, thief,” he whispers, and Kaito laughs.

“Was I worth the chase then, detective?”

And Kaito grins helplessly at Shinichi’s reply, kissing him deeply, affectionately, lovingly, as much as Shinichi deserves and more.

(“Always, a thousand times over, every single time, Kaito.”)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're both just nerds in love and no one can tell me otherwise
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this pairing, especially with this trope! Fake dating tropes are one of my absolute favourites, and kaishin steadily rose up in terms of my favourite pairings, so it made sense to put them together, haha. Hopefully I'll be able to write more of them in the near future, let me know if you have any ideas?
> 
> Thanks again for reading! <3


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